Easy Come, Easy Go
by Beyond-BB-Birthday
Summary: Its the last semester of senior year. Stan and Wendy break up *a lot*, Stan and Kyle have a hidden relationship, Kenny's a slut and Wendy knows Kyle's secret. How will everything come together to make or break their last few months together? Stendy, Style
1. Detection

**Prologue**

The cold, harsh wind ripped at my skin, and pulled at my shoulder-length orange curls. I shivered, being without a coat in South Park, and sighed. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and flipped it open.

_1:24 am_. I shook my head. It had been over a half hour since I'd called Stan, now. I pointlessly glanced around the cold area, stupidly surveying it for any form of life.

Something creaked behind me and I jumped, turning around quickly. A crow had landed on the parapet behind me. The iced concrete beneath my bare feet burned at my skin, but I paid no attention.

The high school's roof was completely barren. (Except for the crow and I.) I glanced back down to the phone in my pale fingers, and sighed again, flipping it shut.

I started towards the edge of the roof. I looked over the ledge at the ground. It was so far away…

With a deep breath and one last glance around the area surrounding the school. The stupid building I hated so much. It seemed only fitting that I would die from it's height.

"_Stan's not coming,"_ I painfully thought to myself. _"He only cares about her. He doesn't care if you live or die."_ Tears rolled down my face as I heaved myself onto the brick ledge. My mind swayed, and I was suddenly overcome with a terrible dizziness. I crouched on the ledge and stabled myself.

I looked around the street again, hoping to catch sight of someone, anyone. Everyone had left an hour ago, probably including Stan. _"He's not here. He never was."_

Silently, I agreed with myself, and stood up, getting ready to breathe for the last time.

**Chapter 1**

I blindly followed my best friend outside. I couldn't see anything, as Stan's hand was clasped across my eyes, his hand on my shoulder to guide me. Sadly, I think I was more focused on his hand on my body than the 'huge surprise' he was about to show me.

I was only in this situation because I didn't have the heart to tell Stan that I already knew about his new birthday present. But I said nothing as he guided me out of his house and onto the street.

He removed his hand and I gasped. It was more beautiful than Stan's mother had accidentally told me. Before me stood a broken-down pickup truck, clad with dirt and rust. I think it was supposed to be red, but I could barely tell. It was a piece of shit, but it was a vehicle, so I smiled.

"It's not much," Stan began. "But it'll take me to and from North Park this weekend," he said. I smiled, and said nothing in return. I hurriedly flung open the passenger door and hopped in. Stan got in the driver's seat and closed his eyes with a smile.

"Damn," I said. "This is awesome. Can't wait 'till you actually get your license so you can drive it,"

Stan sighed. "Just one more week," he commented. I nodded. Stan was so lucky. My parents would never let me get a car of my own until I move out and don't speak to them for a few years. Luckily, that is exactly my plan for next year.

"So," Stan began, not opening his eyes. "You apply to Denver yet?"

My heart sank. "Yeah, but my parents want me to go to Harvard." Stan scoffed and I smiled weakly. "I don't think I'll make it though, I only got a ninety average last year."

Stan pondered this for a moment. "Wendy just got accepted to Denver last week," he stated. I said nothing. Wendy and I had never really gotten along – not because we were academic rivals or even because of her relationship with Stan. It had something to do with her knowing my deepest secret.

"What about you?" I asked, ignoring the Wendy comment.

Stan shrugged. "Have to wait 'till football and wrestling are over before I apply. I know sports are the only thing a college would want from me," he said with a chuckle. I glanced around the truck awkwardly. We both knew what he'd said was true.

With a sigh, Stan sat up and opened the truck's door, but remained where he was. "So are you gonna come with me to the DMV on Friday?" I smiled and we both got out of the vehicle.

"Sure," I said calmly. Usually, a four-hour drive (four hours _both _ways) on a Friday night would be the last thing on my list of things to do, but seeing as I was being invited instead of Wendy, I agreed. It could very well be the last time I'd get to spend time with my Super Best Friend before the winter break ended. Then it would be back to school, where Stan was too busy with Wendy to spend time with anyone – even his best friend.

I frowned at a thought. "I thought Wendy was going with you,"

Stan made a face and shrugged. "Wendy and I kind of had a fight," he said quietly as we started back towards his house. I gave him a look. "Well, we broke up. Again."

I had to fight the urge to laugh. It seemed to me that Stan and Wendy broke up every other week. But Stan gave me a sad look, and instead of laughing, I put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "Don't worry, man," I told him as we made our way into the living room. "She'll be begging you to take her back by tomorrow morning,"

Stan smiled slightly. "Yeah. I love her, but she can be such a bitch sometimes," he informed me. He kept talking, but I couldn't pay attention. I tried shaking it off, but for some reason, my best friend being in love with the likes of _her _pissed me off.

"… I mean, she's so clingy," Stan ranted. I simply nodded dumbly. I don't know why he was telling such things to me – it wasn't like I could relate. I'd only ever had one girlfriend, and I later found out that she'd been dared by the other girls to ask me out. Yeah, that one hurt.

"Enough girl talk," I said when Stan seemed to be finished. "Let's play Guitar Hero, man. I'm gonna kick your ass," I announced. Stan laughed as he stood up to plug the game in. He came back to the couch and handed me the tiny, plastic Les Paul I'd grown to loathe for it's size. I think Stan likes to give me the smallest guitar just to make a point.

Whenever Cartman was around, he always got a good laugh of my religion, (as it had been since before I could even remember,) my mom's bitchiness, (sometimes I'd even have to agree with him there,) and lately, my size.

Kenny had been a good six feet since ninth grade, and Stan had recently shot up to just under him. Until this year, Cartman I had been about the same – until he grew about a foot over the summer. So now, I was a beautiful five-foot-six, which was a dream come true for Cartman.

Stan jabbed me in the ribs with his guitar, and I jumped back to reality, where some song on the game had already begun. I scrambled to put my fingers in position, but gave up quickly. Until recently, we hadn't played the game since fifth grade, and I was certainly losing my gift for the game.

A few rounds of the game later, (on Easy, for my benefit) Stan had gone off to take a phone call. I could tell from the hushed tone he was speaking in in the next room that it was Wendy. When he returned, phone in hand and a pissed look on his face, I knew I was right.

He rolled his eyes and threw me an apologetic look.

I stood up, knowing that Stan would be arguing with his "girlfriend" for a while, probably saying things I couldn't bear to hear. I flashed Stan my house key and pointed towards his front door. Stan muttered something into the phone, and put one hand over the receiver.

"Sorry, Kyle, I'll see you later?"

I nodded. "It's fine," I told him starting towards the door with one of the fakest smiles I'd ever worn.

Since Cartman and Kenny were technically the only ones old enough to drink, they sure made us remember it whenever we went to the bar.

"Beg, Kyle!" Cartman commanded with a snigger, turning to me in our regular booth in the back. He held a can of our regular, cheap-ass beer above my head.

"Please, fatass, don't you have Butters to beg for you?" I commented. Kenny chuckled.

Cartman dangled the can closer to my face, but I made no attempt to grab it. "Maybe if you weren't such a short Jew bitch, you could get it yourself," he commented. I was almost impressed with his ability to kill two birds with one insult.

Kenny rolled his drunken eyes. "Oh, sit down, fucktard," he told Cartman. He slid a can across the tiny table to me, and I smirked at Cartman. He muttered something about poor people, but we ignored him as per usual.

"Where's Stan?" Kenny wondered aloud. He took a drag on the cigarette he was holding and glanced around the crowded room. I shrugged.

"Dude, I thought the bitch behind the counter said you're not allowed to smoke in here," I told him.

He gave me a smirk. "Not since last weekend," I shuddered. "That's also why she lets us buy beer for you guys," he must have caught my alarmed face, (if my mother found out…) because he added, "It's okay, Kyle, she's cool." He winked at me, but I rolled my eyes.

A few (illegal on my part) consumptions of alcohol later, Stan finally showed up. He muttered some excuse about homework, but I figured it must've had something to do with Wendy. His eyes were slightly red and his face was pale, but I said nothing about it.

It probably sounds horrible, but I was almost hoping that Wendy had dropped him for good.


	2. Realization

Chapter 2

"You ready yet?" Stan asked in impatience as he stood beside my closed bathroom door.

I hurriedly ran a comb through my messy, shoulder-length red hair. With a sigh, I tied it back with one of my mom's hair elastics and hurried into the hallway.

"Okay, let's go," I told him. Stan nodded and followed me down the stairs.

As I passed my parents on my way out, I said, "I'm going to North Park with Stan, Mom," My mother turned away from the television.

"Well, alright, sweetie," my mother replied worriedly. "You boys be careful out there," I just sigh and nod, throwing Stan a look, who was sniggering into his hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I added. My mother nodded, returning to the TV with my dad and Ike.

I lead the way out of my house and down the driveway to Stan's shitty truck. Stan slides into the driver's seat, and me into the passenger's side. He put the truck in gear and started down the dark street. His eyes were tired and bored already.

"If you get tired, lemme know, and I'll drive," I told him. Stan laughed.

"Do you even know how to drive?"

I felt my face redden. "It can't be that hard,"

Stan just laughed and shook his head. "So I guess when I wake up in a hospital room with a phone call from you from jail, I'll know why."

I gave him a look, and he turned back to the road. We talked lightly for a few hours on the highway: about school the following week, Cartman's latest asshole antics and college. Everything, I noticed, but Wendy. I didn't know whether to take it as a good or a bad sign – until I brought her up.

"So how's Wendy?" I asked cautiously. He shrugged, not taking his gaze off the lifeless road before him. "Did you get back together?" I finally asked bluntly. Stan said nothing at first, thinking hard, I could tell.

"Yeah. We got back together, but…" He trailed off. I pressed him.

"But what?"

He sighed with a shrug. "She's just so…so _needy_," he announced. I felt my heart lift slightly at the prospect of Stan finally having something to say about Wendy other than, 'she's an animal in bed', or, 'she's sexy'. He continued. "I think we just need a break, at least until college. Four years…I just don't know if I can do it without cheating again, y'know?"

Of course, I didn't know, but I nodded anyways. Finally, his words hit me. "Jesus, Stan, you cheat on your girlfriend?" I asked in sheer surprise. Stan's face went pale.

"It was only once, it wasn't a big thing," he said, his face becoming ridden with guilt. Before I could ask, he said, "Bebe. Last year. She told Wendy, and she was pissed, and she got over it. No big," I just nodded, letting it go.

Frankly, I had no idea how someone could betray someone they supposedly 'love', but that was just me. I'd never been in love – at least, not until recently.

We drove in silence for the next hour, until we were halfway through Middle Park, and Stan's eyes started to drop.

"Dude, you're practically asleep, let me drive," I said. Stan snapped up, eyes wide open.

"No, I'm okay."

I sighed as he slumped down again. "Seriously, dude, you're going to get us killed." Finally, Stan shrugged sleepily and agreed. He pulled over, climbed over me on the padded bench, and leaned against the passenger door. He murmured something about being careful. I chuckled and moved into the driver's seat.

Suddenly, I was very nervous. I breathed deeply, putting the pickup into drive and lightly tapped the gas pedal. My heart jumped as the vehicle slowly lurched forward. I pressed down a little further and drove slowly along the dark, barren highway.

I glanced at the clock built into the car and my heart pounded. It was past two am, and we were just getting off the highway to North Park.

I turned into the parking lot of a cheap motel and put the truck in park, heaving a large sigh. Despite taking two hours to cover the distance that Stan would've covered in fifty minutes, I was relatively proud. After all, we were both alive.

I turned in the seat, glancing at Stan's sleeping figure. I won't deny it: he was a fucking mess. His short black hair was messed up, random bits poking up at odd angles. His face looked worried, like he was having a bad dream.

I shifted over on the seat, only inches away from Stan. I shyly put my hand over his and rested my head on his shoulder awkwardly. Despite him being asleep, I blushed heavily. I shook it off and relaxed, realizing how tired I was.

Just as I was falling asleep, I could've sworn I saw Stan's mouth twitch into a smile.

* * *

"Uh…Kyle?" I snapped awake, jumping slightly at the sound of Stan's voice. "Could you, er, get off of me?"

I felt my face grow hot again as I nodded, sitting up. I untied my hair and ran my hand through it. Stan sighed, climbing over me again to the driver's side.

"Jesus, where the fuck are we?" he asked drowsily. "When did we get here?"

I shrugged. "You passed out and let me take over – and I didn't get us killed," I added smugly. "I got tired so I pulled in here at around two. 'S some motel in North Park."

Stan nodded, starting up the truck. Thankfully, he said nothing about the rather…compromising position we'd slept in. "What time is it?" I asked.

With a glance at his watch, Stan told me it was noon, and we sped through the overcrowded streets quickly to the DMV. When Stan pulled into the parking lot, he breathed deeply.

"You ready?" I asked him. He nodded and opened the door, pulling his blue-and-red winter hat over his head. I followed, putting my hair back into a short ponytail. We said nothing as Stan and I entered the plain brown building. I could tell he was worried. After all, this was the third time he'd applied for his license.

There was a small line, so we took a number and sat down. Stan stared out the window beside us, and I watched other people get their licenses rejected, accepted and taken away.

"Dude, I'm so nervous," Stan said finally, tapping his fingers on his knees. "Talk about something else to distract me."

I nodded. "Uh…well, I applied to Harvard yesterday," I informed him. "Don't worry, though, I made _sure_ they wouldn't accept me," I added with a laugh. Stan smiled and nodded happily. He seemed distracted from his anxiety, so I kept quiet after cheering him up.

The young girl behind the counter finally called our number a few minutes later, and Stan hurried forward. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on us as I followed him. With a deep breath, Stan approached the counter.

"Name?" asked the bored-looking woman with the clipboard in front of us.

"Stanley Marsh."

She turned around and opened a drawer, fishing out Stan's file. He fidgeted where he stood nervously. I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, man, it'll be fine," I reassured him. He nodded mindlessly.

The woman came back to the counter and took a few papers out of a folder with Stan's name on it, and have him the rest of the folder. "Well, looks like you've been approved, Stanley," she said, curling her lips to reveal crooked, yellow-brown teeth. It took me a moment to realize she was smiling.

Stan beamed, briefly leafing through the papers before throwing his arms around me in a loose hug; pulling back and giving me a light peck on the cheek. He ignored my flushed expression and turned back to the folder in his hands as he started towards the door.

I shook it off, regaining my composure, and followed him outside to his truck. He was still smiling as he hopped into the driver's side and me into the passenger's.

"Finally!" he said, laying the folder on the dashboard. His face brightened slightly. "I should call Wendy," he announced, taking his phone out and doing so. I gave him a look, but he ignored it.

"At least let me drive, then," I said, knowing that he'd be far too excited to drive calmly. He nodded and we switched places. I was much more confident in my driving abilities, now, and took to the highway much easier, trying desperately to ignore Stan's phone conversation.

It was about five thirty when we finally arrived back in South Park. (It would've been an hour ago, but I drove the whole way, listening in annoyance as Stan talked avidly with his girlfriend, ignoring his best friend.) I waved goodbye to Stan as I pulled up to my house and got out. He waved half-heartedly and drove off.

Judging by the half of the conversation I could hear, Stan was probably on his way to her place right now. And, though I had a good idea, I certainly didn't want to know what he had planned for the celebration of getting his license with _her_.

* * *

A/N: It'll get better, I promise!!


	3. Action

Chapter 3

"Hey, move your short Jew legs!" Cartman called from across the field. I snapped out of my thoughts, where our gym class football team was royally losing to Token's. He scowled at me and I shot forward, sprinting to follow the play.

I sighed when Stan threw the ball expertly towards me. I leaned forward to catch it, but I dropped it. He came over to me and gave me a look – slightly irritated, but trying not to show it. God, how I knew that look.

Clyde came over to get the ball and shouted some football-talk to his team that I couldn't follow. His team threw it a few times and started down towards the end zone. I chased after various players, not really knowing what I was doing.

"Kyle, take Tweek," Stan said as he ran off to take a pass. I looked around frantically until I found Tweek and covered him. Someone threw him the ball, and I bravely reached up to catch it. My fingertips grazed the ball and knocked it out of Tweek's grasp.

When the ball hit the ground, I picked it up and tossed it to Stan. "Nice save," he said with a warm smile. I smiled back and started the next play with a new air of hope.

After a few more rounds, the gym teacher lazily blew the whistle and we hurried in to get changed. I sighed when Stan ran off to find Wendy the second the lunch bell rang. I grabbed my gym bag and hurried to my locker.

"I'm not jealous," I lied to myself. "It's not because of her," No one noticed my frantic murmuring to myself as I threw my gym clothes into my locker and trudged off the cafeteria, where I knew it would be another lunch with Kenny coming onto me and Cartman making fun of someone. (Namely, me.)

I distracted myself from thinking of Stan and Wendy by thinking of school. I ran through all the homework I'd have to do when I got home in my mind. I sighed when I glanced around the cafeteria upon arrival. I approached our usual table, noticing Kenny and Cartman looking at each other rather uneasily.

When I sat down, I noticed Stan and Wendy across the table, talking quietly and smiling at each other. It took a hell of a lot of self-restraint to keep from rolling my eyes.

"Hey, Kyle," Stan said casually. Wendy tried getting his attention back, but I could tell he was less-than-excited about the growing frequency of their conversations. "That was some nice football you played," he said. I smiled weakly.

Wendy sighed obnoxiously, standing up and waving at someone. She announced that she had to talk to someone and gave me an irritated goodbye. She kissed Stan on the cheek, who turned his head to catch his lips on hers. I was suddenly overcome with a pang of nausea and jealousy as they embraced. I couldn't distract myself from the genuine smile he wore as they pulled away.

It's interesting. On her own, I can't stand the bitch. It doesn't help that in tenth grade, Kenny had told her the huge secret I'd kept ever since. And she'll never forget it, I'm sure. But, when she's with Stan, I try not to hate her out loud. She makes him happy, and I don't want to take it away from him because of my jealousy.

When Wendy was out of earshot, Stan sighed, starting up again about his girlfriend's issues. Kenny was texting some chick he met on the Internet he hadn't shut up about lately, and Cartman was trying to bug the shit out of Kenny.

I groaned, standing up. Stan gave me a look, and I made some stupid excuse about a headache and left. I couldn't take another second of my friends' attitudes. How the hell Stan could say the things he did about Wendy, I had no clue. He seemed to love her, and she seemed to really love him. But I didn't say anything. I never do.

As I entered the hallway and turned the corner to head back to my locker, I almost ran straight into Butters.

"Well, hello, Kyle," he said, slightly nervously. I smiled awkwardly and said hi. I really hadn't spoken to the boy since we were kids. He could make any conversation embarrassing simply by the hand-wringing thing he does.

We stood there uneasily for a moment, but I reminded myself that he was just shy, and didn't have very many friends, and waited for him to go on. I barely knew the kid, but I knew him well enough to know what he was trying to say next.

"You…haven't seen Eric around, have you?" I almost laughed at his predictability. "I gotta talk to him,"

I nodded. "He's in the cafeteria," I said. He smiled weakly. That was something people said they liked about me: I didn't ask questions. I gave people space. Butters blushed slightly before nodding and running into the cafeteria.

Just as the bell rang, I flung open my locker door, and the students flooded into the overcrowded halls. I hurriedly grabbed my English and History books.

A little way down the hallway, I saw Stan talking quietly to Wendy, and then she stormed off angrily in my direction. I knew it was none of my business, but I was flushed with pity, happiness, and…maybe even a little guilt for being happy.

* * *

"I can't fucking stand her!" Stan exclaimed. I raised my eyebrows as he entered my house after me.

Usually Stan and Wendy hung out after school, so I was happy just to spend time with Stan, but I still thought that he was being a little harsh – after all, it didn't really seem like she'd done anything to him.

I sighed. "God, Stan, what did she do, rip your lungs out or something?" I asked, leading the way into my living room. "She's a nice person," I struggled to add. He rolled his eyes. Despite my heart telling me to stop defending the bitch whose boyfriend I'm trying to flirt with, I continued. "She seems to really like you, Stan."

"I know, I know. But all she does is talk about her friends; her ex-boyfriends and why I'm exactly like them, et cetera, et cetera. It gets old," I must not have looked convinced, because he sighed. "And…she keeps threatening to break up with me if I don't sleep with her," he added with a scowl.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. He simply shook his head. "I'm sick of this shit," he muttered as we sat down on the sofa. "Can you help me with my Econ. assignment?" he asked boredly, fishing some books out of the backpack that now lay on the floor.

"Stupid fucking…" he swore as he reread the page. I read it over his shoulder, my breath on his neck. I tried not to let my thoughts stray to Stan's smooth hair, less than an inch from my face. "So what's this shit about 'capitalism' and 'industry'?" I snapped back to reality, where I shrugged stupidly.

"Oh, well, capitalism is the idea of privately owning money…are you listening Stan?" I asked softly as Stan stared blankly on the page. He sighed and nodded. "Okay. So instead of the work and capital and shit being owned by the government, the consumers and society control it."

Stan gave me a puzzled look, but before I could elaborate, Stan's cell phone rang, and he hurriedly answered it.

"Hello?"

Stan rolled his eyes, followed quickly by me when he wasn't looking. He sighed.

"I'm at Kyle's, Wendy. We're doing homework, okay? Can I call you back?" he said, sounding desperate. Stan made a face. "I know. I'm not sure yet, okay? I'll talk to you later. Bye," he said, flipping shut his phone hastily.

As he turned back to the Economics assignment, I heard him mutter something about 'controlling bitches'. I smirked and continued explaining the concepts of various trade and industry terms. (And soon after, re-explaining.)

After about an hour, we were both pushed to our limits, and Stan suggested a break. ("But no Guitar Hero," I'd insisted. Stan had easily agreed)

Luckily, amusement created itself quickly. We turned on the television just in time to catch the end of our favourite childhood show, _Terrence and Philip_. Though the ideas were primitive and the jokes were lame, we laughed ourselves stupid like we used to. _"Before Wendy and Stan got together,"_ I added mentally, before feeling slightly guilty.

'She makes him happy,' had always been my excuse for not feeling left out of Stan's usually frantically busy life. But now that she was making him sad and stressed out, it almost pissed me off. I felt almost responsible myself for Stan being unhappy.

I stole a glance over to him, and he gave me a weak smile. He muted the television as it cut to commercial and turned to face me. He opened his mouth to tell me something – something comforting or apologetic, I could tell by his face. I sighed, knowing I probably wouldn't want to hear what he had to say.

"Kyle, I'm sor–" but I cut him off, by hastily placing my lips on his, both our eyes wide in surprise.


	4. Confusion

Chapter 4

"Kyle, what the _fuck_?" he said in disbelief. He pushed me away, stood up and staggered back, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. I simply looked at him. "Jesus…" he muttered.

My face went beat red and I felt tears well up in my eyes. I didn't know what I'd been thinking, kissing my best friend like that. I certainly didn't expect him to respond like I'd hoped, but this wasn't what I expected, either.

Stan just looked at me. Tears leaked out of my eyes, and I looked away from him. "I…I'm sorry, I don't know why…why I did that, Stan," I managed to choke out. He kept staring at me, expression surprised and dubious. My mind raced like never before.

My heart fell as Stan simply turned around and left, leaving my front door wide open and driving off hastily.

I stood there, my legs unable to move, my mind unable to process what had just happened. I stared out the door, not caring if the cold wind blew in and made me shiver. I wasn't sad. I wasn't even angry, just embarrassed, and nervous. Mostly, though, I was numb.

* * *

I could feel the blood rush to my face as Kenny laughed at me. I knew telling him what had happened at Stan's would be a mistake. I scowled and turned away from him.

"Christ, Kyle, chill," he commanded. He took a sip from the beer can in his hand. He quickly scanned the crowd in the bar for Cartman and Stan, who'd gone to bum some weed off of Clyde ten minutes ago. "I've been there, man. Can't win 'em all, right?"

I gave him a look. Like Kenny had ever kissed his best friend. Like Kenny had ever been pushed away by his best friend and watched him run away from him. I relived the event in my head, cringing as I recalled the look of horror that had stolen upon Stan's usually smooth features.

Kenny sighed. "Just give it some time, man, that's all I can tell you. At least to didn't try to feel him up," I must have worn an interesting look, because he laughed. "Yeah, I've been there," he said with a smirk and another drink of beer.

I simply shook my head and glanced toward the front of the bar again. Cartman and Stan were making their way toward our table.

Stan handed Kenny some money and a plastic bag, and the two sat down in our booth. Stan looked awkwardly at me, and I glanced at Kenny. Kenny gave me a look I couldn't understand, and Cartman gave us all puzzled looks. We stared at each other uncomfortably for a few moments before Cartman spoke up.

"Jeez, who the fuck died?" I almost laughed. Kenny and Stan rolled their eyes and took a drink. "Someone do some talking!" he commanded.

Stan gave him a look. "Well…" he cleared his throat distractively. "Me and Wendy are going to Denver this weekend," he said. Cartman scoffed, and Kenny was too busy eye-fucking some chick a few yards away to listen.

"What for?" I provided.

"She's going to see some family and said I should come. Whatever, though," he added, trying to seem uninterested. I tried to smile, but gave up easily.

* * *

My mother pounded on my door and demanded that I wake up for school. I groaned, sitting up and holding my stomach, remembering the dream I'd had instantly. How I hated that damn dream. I tried desperately to think of something else as that day in my living room relived itself in my mind.

I stood up and got dressed quickly, ignoring the rather throbbing pain in my head as usual. We really needed to stop drinking on school nights…

"Kyle, someone's on the phone for you!" my mom hollered up the stairs.

I groaned. "Okay, Mom!" I shouted back, grabbing a few textbooks off of my desk and throwing them into my backpack before picking up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Kyle?" Stan's voice asked.

I rolled my eyes. "No, this is Kyle's evil twin," I said, heavily adding the sarcasm. He chuckled softly. "What do you want, Stan?" I asked boredly, his laughing stopping abruptly.

"Kyle, we need to talk," he said quietly after a few seconds. I said nothing, debating whether to simply hang up or not. "You there?"

I coughed. "Oh. Yeah, sure."

"How about I'll drive you home and we'll talk. 'K dude?" he asked. I heard a loud, girlish laugh in the background and I immediately scowled.

"Why the fuck is Wendy over there?" I asked automatically. Stan sighed, making some stupid excuse about helping her with her homework before school. I, of course, new this was total bullshit, though, seeing as how Wendy was usually the one helping Stan.

After Stan muttered a few words to Wendy, to me he said, "I've got to go. Wrestling practice before school," I said nothing. "See ya," he added.

"Yeah. Bye," I said, even though Stan had already hung up the phone on the other end. Without letting myself think about what Stan wanted to tell me after school, I hurried out the door and started towards the school.

Either Stan and Wendy had made up, or they were _really_ fucking good actors.

I stared in agony as I watched my best friend and his girlfriend make out down the hallway. I looked away, taking the long way through the school to get to my locker.

By the 'long' way, I meant that my locker was a few feet away from them, and I would have to go up a floor, through the hallway, down into the shop, through the gym, and back around the corner. But it was better than getting closer.

I hurried up the stairs, running straight into Craig. I stumbled backward and groaned, realizing that I'd banged heads with him. My hand flew to my throbbing skull, and I grunted a 'sorry'. He sighed, looking up and flipping me off as he brushed past me in irritation. I looked up, to see Butters trying to stifle a laugh as he walked by.

Making a point of ignoring him, I continued through the hall and down the steps into the shop. To my surprise, Kenny was inside, leaning over a broken car.

"I didn't know you did autoshop," I commented. Kenny looked up and nodded. It was the end of the day, and I knew Kenny didn't take shop class. At least, not since fourth grade when he'd been grinded through a power tool.

"Lets steam off, y'know?" he muttered, reaching his hand into the front of the car. "It's nice to not have think about anything for a bit. Nice to not have to go home for a few more hours…"

I didn't say anything to that. We all knew Kenny had a rough home life, but Stan, Cartman and I never mentioned it. It was better that way. I figured things must've been really bad if Kenny, the school's resident whore, would rather be at school than at home jacking off to a playboy magazine.

"I gotta go," I said.

Kenny smirked. "Going to talk to Stan, right?" I gave him a puzzled look. "Just a lucky guess," he murmured, turning back to the shitty car. I fought the heat rising to my face and hurriedly said goodbye. I rushed through the gym and down the hall to my locker.

Thankfully, Wendy had left, (hopefully to jump off a bridge…) and Stan remained, waiting for me. I took a deep breath, knowing how awkward this was going to be.

"Hey," Stan said casually as I spun the lock on my locker and opened it. "What's up? Haven't seen you all day."

I shrugged. "You seemed…busy, with Wendy," I said stupidly. Stan bit his lip as I shoved my books and things into my bag.

"Well, Wendy decided that we could go out without having to sleep together," he said, almost cheerfully. I nodded. "So we're not mad at each other. That's good."

I shut my locker door and flung my backpack over my shoulder, following Stan towards the front of the school.

"So," I began uncomfortably. Stan said nothing, just looked around the empty hallways. "You wanted to talk about…stuff," I stated, not being able to bring myself to say it. Stan simply nodded as we stepped outside into the cold.

We said nothing more as we walked through the parking lot and hopped into Stan's truck. When we did, Stan sighed.

"Kyle, I'm sorry."

My eyes widened in shock. Of all the things I'd been expecting, none of them came close to that. I tried to collect my thoughts quickly, my heart pounding.

Before I could think straight, I blurted out, "What the fuck are _you_ sorry for? This was all my fault," and Stan simply shook his head.

"I…I was such an asshole," he said quietly, his face growing red. "I was just surprised, y'know? It's not every day I find out my best friend, well, since Kenny, is…is…" he couldn't say it. After all that 'sorry' bullshit, he couldn't even say it.

I gave him a look. "Say it, Stan."

"Gay."

I just stared out the windshield, nodding.

Stan didn't say anything for a few minutes. He started up the truck before he said, "It's okay, Kyle."

My jaw dropped. Then, after the surprise, I was pissed. "It's _okay_?" I demanded. "You _pushed_ me away, and got up, and stormed out!" Stan sighed, looking around the vehicle awkwardly.

"It was just shock, okay? Wouldn't you be surprised if you thought your best friend was…normal, and all of a sudden, he fucking kisses you?" he said persuasively. I simply shrugged; focusing on the emphasis he'd put on the word 'normal'.

Stan said, "Look, Kyle. I get it," but I cut him off.

"Oh, you know all about having a crush on you best friend, do you?" I demanded sarcastically, fighting back tears.

"Yeah," Stan all but whispered. He suddenly grabbed my hand, entwining his fingers in mine and leaning closer to me. My confused mind raced, trying to process what was happening. "I do know," he added huskily, his breath on my neck.

And suddenly, for the second time in a week, my best friend's lips were so wrongfully on mine.


	5. Depression

I knew it was wrong. I knew I should've stopped it, but we kissed for what seemed like hours. Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to push him away after trying to get him for so long.

I let him slip his tongue into my mouth and put his hand up my shirt, not thinking anything besides, _this is wrong_. But it sure as shit didn't feel wrong.

Finally, Stan pulled away from me and inched to the other side of the truck, gazing out the window as though it was all rather boring. I stared at him, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. Without a word, he put the truck into drive and started down the road.

"Stan…" I tried to say, but not knowing where to begin. "You have a girlfriend," I stated stupidly.

He sighed. "I know."

"And you like _me_?"

He said nothing. I gave him a look and he blushed.

"Yes, Kyle," he murmured. I said nothing more, thoughts running wild in confusion as Stan pulled into my driveway and I got out. "Kyle?" Stan said quietly as I started towards my front door. I came over to him.

With sad eyes, all he said was, "Don't tell anyone," and he drove away as I pathetically nodded and held back tears, heart stinging with rejection.

* * *

Whenever Stan picked me up for school in the morning, it was usually a bad thing. Because he usually picked up Wendy instead, it either meant they'd had a fight or there was something really important to tell me before school. It was never something good, at least in my perspective.

So when I hopped into Stan's car the next morning, it blew my mind when his lips were on mine instantly.

"Christ," I muttered when he hurriedly put the vehicle in gear and sped down the road. It might've been me, but he seemed almost…happy. "Was that the only reason you wanted to pick me up this morning?"

Stan chuckled, but said nothing. I gave him a look of confusion.

"What, can't a guy spend time with his best friend?" he asked. I shrugged.

Before I could stop myself, the words were out of my mouth: "What about Wendy? I thought you were pissed at me."

Stan gave me a look I couldn't read. "I'm not pissed. I never was. And Wendy can go jump off a bridge," he added scornfully. "Fucking bitch…"

I tried to restrain myself, for fear of the answer, but I asked anyways. "What did she do this time?" He shrugged.

"Usual shit, going on about how I _'don't appreciate her' _and how _'Red's boyfriend took her to California on the break'._ Like, seriously, she's just so fucking pissy," I raised my eyebrows in satisfaction, then felt a surge of guilt. I should really try to control those damn things.

I cleared my throat awkwardly as we pulled into the school parking lot and headed to the front doors. "Does she know we…?" Stan shot me a harsh look.

"Of course not!" he said angrily. He sighed. "After the stupid Bebe thing last year…" he paused, looking around to make sure we were alone. "I know she won't be so forgiving if she found out this time. Especially with a guy."

My heart sank, realizing the depressed tone he used. It took all of my willpower to even think it: "We could just…stop," I said quietly. Stan seemed to consider this, and I regretted saying it. He soon gave me a weak smile.

"Now that I've got you, I could never go back, Kyle," he said comfortingly. I returned his smile as we hurried into the school.

As I hurried into my homeroom a few minutes later, I groaned, realizing I'd forgotten my gym clothes in my locker. I threw my stuff down on my desk and started back down the hallway hastily.

When I reached my locker and quickly spun my lock open, praying not to be late, I heard a snigger behind me. I whirled around in surprise.

"Hilarious, fatass," I commented sarcastically to Cartman, who was right behind me. I dug through my unusually messy-as-shit locker for my gym clothes.

"Why, Kyle, I believe homeroom is due to start any second," he taunted. I rolled my eyes, catching his flawed logic.

"You'll be late too if you just stand there," I commented as I started swiftly back to homeroom.

He snorted. "Like it matters if I'm late. I'm not the one who's going to _college_," he said, as though going to college was something to make fun of me for. I gave him an unimpressed look and continued down the hallway. He rolled his eyes. "Someone's pissy. Did your _boyfriend_ leave you, Kyle? Or are you upset because Stan won't do you?"

I whipped around and gave him a threatening look. Even though I knew he was just trying to annoy me, it pissed me off and made my heart pound in anxiety of being found out. Cartman snickered and I ran the few feet left to my classroom without another word.

* * *

"_Meet me and Kenny at the bar at eleven. Don't tell Cartman." _I reread the note Stan had passed me in Economics again as I hurried off the bus and down the few blocks to the bar.

I would've wondered what it was all about, or why Stan couldn't pick me up, but I'd heard about it earlier today. Something about a betting pool…

With a sigh, I watched Stan and Wendy, hands locked, walk into the building together. Wendy was laughing stupidly like she did, and Stan was beaming at her.

When I followed them in, my mind was instantly overloaded. Quite a few kids from our grade were packed into the tiny bar, surrounding our usual table. I pushed and weeded my way through the crowd, pausing for uncomfortable 'hello's with every other person. It would seem I was rather popular, but I knew it was just because I was Stan's best friend.

Or maybe more.

When I reached the table, Kenny smiled a sly smile. Kenny and Stan listened boredly to Wendy as she droned on about some stupid party I knew I wasn't invited to anyways. She stopped talking when I sat down in front of them. She gave me the usual pissed-off stare I got whenever I interrupted them by existing. It just screamed, "_get away from my man, bitch, I know your secret_" but I ignored her. I was used to it.

"What are we here for, Kenny?" I said loudly above all the noise the group made. Kenny stood up and raised his arms, waving them to get the attention of our classmates. Within the minute, everyone had shut up and waited for Kenny to continue.

"Some of you know why we are here," he said. "And some don't. Now, just to make things clear, here's what's goin' on,"

He glanced over the group, and I followed his gaze, though he was taller than me immensely and could see farther back. I noticed Bebe, Red, Rebecca, Clyde, Token, Tweek, Craig, Jimmy and a few other people I didn't know.

"We're here because we all know about Cartman and Butters," he said in a mock-serious tone. "And we all know that one of us can get super fucking rich on this thing," he added with a laugh. The small crowd whooped.

"So here's how it works: we all put twenty bucks in, and whoever can get Eric and Butters to come out of the closet together, wins the money," he announced. The crowd started chatting again, and Stan and I were laughing our asses off.

Kenny waved his arms around again and the room settled. "Rules. No threats, no bribes and no blackmailing allowed. Anything else goes!"

Our classmates nodded as though they hadn't even listened and started to talk again. Kenny, Stan and I walked around and collected money from all the people in the room, throwing our twenties on top of the pile after. Wendy had disappeared somewhere a little while ago. (Thank god.)

When most of our classmates had left, (save a few and Bebe, who was 'getting a ride home' with Kenny) it was past twelve. We'd originally planned to kick back and get wasted with Kenny, Craig and Tweek, but I was practically falling asleep at the table, so Stan agreed to drive me home.

"Okay, see you Kenny," Stan muttered to Kenny, whose lips were currently occupied with those of Bebe. I ignored them and followed Stan out to his truck and got in.

I figured I'd fallen asleep for a minute, because before I knew it we were pulling into my driveway. I sat there for a minute, pretending my mind was elsewhere. In reality, I was hoping Bebe and Kenny had inspired Stan somewhat – but I sure as hell wasn't planning on pushing it.

I turned to face Stan, who was staring sullenly at the center of the steering wheel. He looked up and gave me a weak smile and a trembling kiss before I got out and stumbled into my house.

Although Stan had said he liked me, I couldn't help but feel bad that he was depressed about it all. I never remembered him being this upset when he'd supposedly been cheating with Bebe, so it must be because of me. If I'd never lost control that one day…maybe he wouldn't be so sad.

Maybe, but I'll never know now. "_I'm going to be happy,_" I told myself determinatively. "_I made out with the coolest guy in school behind the back of a girl I fucking hate. And I'm going to be happy about it._"


	6. Retaliation

"Not your best work, Broflovski," Mr. Thompson pointed out as he handed me back my calculus test. I raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the mark.

"A sixty-nine?" I exclaimed quietly. I'd studied hard for that test, too. At least, I'd tried to, before Stan had insisted that we do something more 'productive'.

The bell rang and all the students hurried to their seats. I groaned and shoved my test, frustrated, into my binder. My mood didn't improve when Cartman sat down in front of me and turned around.

He smiled, sliding his test over to me. "So what'd you get?" he asked with mock-innocence. I glared at his ninety-four paper and shoved it back at him. He frowned.

"C'mon, Kyle, don't be such a short-ass Jew," he said stupidly. I'd always wondered how someone as brain-dead as Cartman could be better than me in anything, let alone math, but it certainly wasn't my strong point. But I'd never slipped below a B plus until today.

Mr. Thompson, the teacher known to many students as many more unpleasant things, hurried up to the front of the class. Eric groaned and turned back around. Thompson began his lecture and I straightened up. I listened carefully, trying hard to catch the words, but my heart simply was not in it. Most of the kids around me were passing notes or whispering, and it wasn't exactly a secret what about…

I tried again to distract myself by following the lesson, but I didn't seem to take in the meaning of anything Thompson said.

It wasn't just the anxiety of facing my parent's annoyance when I brought home a C test that was bothering me. It was also the face that I was going to a party – more like _the_ party – tonight. Alone. With Stan.

At first, it hadn't seemed all that weird – until Kenny told me what senior parties are like. Apparently, they're not like the tenth-grade parties we were used to. Apparently, there's smoking, drinking, drugs, and the most worrying, sex.

I shook my head slightly, definitely not wanting to go there at the moment. By now, Mr. Thompson had shut up and was writing homework questions on the board. I copied them down quickly and jumped in surprise when the bell rang.

As I left the math classroom and started down the hallway, I tried to come up with something to distract my thoughts for the moment, at least until I got to the cafeteria. A distraction quickly created itself when Kenny seemingly appeared at my side.

I gave him a look of surprise. Today, he was wearing the hood of his orange parka up – something he hadn't done in a while. I'd noticed he only wore it like that when he was nervous, which, he probably hadn't been in a while.

"Rebecca," he stated, grinning. I gave him a confused look and he smiled wider. He waited as I flung open by locker and put my books away. "She likes you," he added, after making sure none of the girls were around. I added his hushed tone to the hood to conclude that neither of us were supposed to know this.

I simply stared at him, but said nothing. It was interesting, really. When we were just starting ninth grade, Kenny could read people like a book. You'd point at someone and he could guess their height, weight, family members we knew, next class, last class, sexual orientation and even what drugs they did. By now, I figured he'd have refined that skill as apposed to losing it.

Maybe it wasn't that. Maybe it was a good thing, because it meant that I wasn't leaving any tracks to follow. But, on the other hand, it made me have to lye around people who didn't know I was gay that asked or assumed I was straight. And I was a shit liar.

Finally, as I closed my locker and walked with Kenny to the cafeteria, I continued. "Rebecca, huh?" I said awkwardly. I swallowed. "She's…uh, hot," I said stupidly.

Kenny didn't look impressed. "You don't have to lie, Kyle, I was just telling you, you know," he said with a playful smile.

I felt my cheeks grow hot as we entered the cafeteria. "I…I'm not _lying_ exactly, I just, I mean, she _is_ hot, I'm just not that into girls," I mumbled. Kenny raised his eyebrows and started to smile. "Right now," I added uncomfortably. "I'm not that into girls now, I gotta focus on school, right?"

With another knowing smirk, Kenny said nothing, and heading for our usual table. Frustrated, I followed him.

Stan greeted me for the first time today with a bright smile. I grinned back as I sat down. Cartman rolled his eyes and made some generic 'fag' comment that we both ignored.

A few minutes of idle chat later, a few girls I didn't know came over to us. They smiled and tried to stifle their laughter by putting their hands over their mouths. They looked at Cartman and then at Kenny. The look on Cartman's face was utterly priceless.

One of the girls whispered something to Kenny, and I realized that they must have been asking him about the bet about Cartman and Butters and I laughed quietly. Kenny shook his head no and muttered something back as the girls walked away.

By the time they were gone, Stan, Kenny and I were laughing so hard we almost pissed ourselves, ignoring Cartman's irritated, 'what is so funny' questionings.

Our laughter died down a bit and my heart sank substantially as I spotted Wendy approach our table flamboyantly. I waited for Stan's usual annoyed look, but when it didn't come, and he beamed at her instead, I sighed. She sat down and Stan gave her a deep kiss.

Wendy said immediately, "You're never going to believe it, Stan! My mom's business trip was rescheduled to tonight!" she exclaimed. I didn't know what that meant, but Stan, Kenny and Cartman seemed to.

Stan seemed to be shocked, but swallowed it and smiled. "So you're gonna come to Craig's party tonight?"

Wendy nodded, launching into a long, stupid speech about what she was going to wear. I immediately ignored her and looked at Stan. He gave me an apologetic look and turned back to his girlfriend, nodding and adding in responses to her rambling where necessary.

I didn't know whether to be relieved or pissed: I certainly wouldn't be having any sex tonight, (I knew I wasn't ready for that kind of pressure,) but it still worried me – because Stan might be.

* * *

"Dude, chill it, I'm just gonna get her drunk," Stan reassured me. I gave him a weak, fake smile. "Nothing will happen. I promise," he added, kissing me deeply as though to seal the deal. I licked Stan's bottom lip, and he moaned slightly. He hesitated, and pulled away.

"C'mon, we gotta go," he said. I straightened up and nodded. He smiled again. "I promise, man," he reminded me.

I smiled again, for real. I knew that if Stan promised, I would have nothing to worry about. Also, when I'd asked him what he was going to do with Wendy tonight, he'd rolled his eyes at the mention of her. All good signs as far as I could tell.

Stan had parked the truck just down the road from Craig's, and we started to walk up the block to his house. Wendy, of course, was waiting for Stan on the front lawn.

"Hello, beautiful," Stan commented, kissing her for longer than what was officially required upon greeting one another. I coughed and he pulled away. "Shall we?" he asked, starting towards the door. Wendy giggled slightly but didn't follow him.

"You go ahead, I'll be in in a sec," she announced. Stan smiled and nodded, leaving her and going inside. I started to follow him, but Wendy stopped me.

I gave her a look as she seemed to struggle with what she was trying to say. "Kyle," she began. "I don't know what you're doing here, but tonight is for Stan and I. Only," she said with a slight smirk. I scowled at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Wendy snorted. "It means that you should go find someone else's boyfriend to screw tonight," she said bluntly. I started to say something, but couldn't find the words. She seemed to notice this and smirked again.

"I know your secret, Kyle. So don't fuck me over. Got it?"

I had no willpower to stand up to her. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs to her that she'd just kissed the same lips that had been on mine less than a minute before. I wanted to tell her all about making out with Stan the many times we had, even the times he'd blown her off to do so with me.

But something made me simply nod and say nothing as she followed Stan into the house.

* * *

I rolled my eyes, amazed at Kenny's drunken state. I'd known him to hold his liquor until the cows came home, so saying that he was drunk was really something.

"Pretty awesome party, eh Kyle?" Kenny asked me for what had to be the fourth time. I just nodded.

"Have you got anything?" I asked boredly.

Kenny fished through his pockets and threw me a bag of coke. I sighed, pocketing it. "Where the hell is Stan?" I asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. "He said we'd leave at two."

Kenny shrugged. "Ask Clyde, he said…something," he said drunkenly. I rolled my eyes, sifting the crowd for Clyde, although I doubted he'd know where Stan had gone.

Bebe came up to Kenny and tongue-fucked him on the spot. I rolled my eyes, until she pulled away and brightened up.

"Ken, did you hear? Red told me that Wendy and Stan are gonna screw," she said plainly. Kenny snorted and resumed their kiss.

"No," I murmured to myself. "He promised," and then I set off to find out whether or not it was true.


	7. Confession

Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. I'd gone the entire weekend without a word to Stan and he hadn't even tried to call me. And, the saddest part is that, even though I'm pissed at him, I can't wait to talk to him again the next day.

I'm weak.

I was almost asleep that Sunday night when my cell phone vibrated on the desk beside my bed. I groaned, leaning up to grab it and flip it open. It was a text from Stan. _Finally_, I thought.

_Are you mad?_

_-S_

I scoffed, pressing buttons furiously.

_What would I be mad about?_

_-Ky_

Stan didn't respond for a few moments. When he did, the buzzing snapped me awake again.

_Do you know about what happened at the party?_

…_Yes._

_Well then I want you to know I'm so sorry, Kyle. I didn't mean for it to happen like that…I'm sorry I did that, especially after I promised you that I wouldn't sleep with her. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me…_

I paused. He shouldn't be apologizing for this. I felt terribly guilty for making him feel like he had to apologize for doing things with his girlfriend. Quickly, I dialed his cell number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Stan," I whispered into my cell phone. "We need to talk, don't we?"

There was a brief pause before Stan said, "Kyle, I'm really sorry I did something bad to you."

I sighed, realizing he was not going to make this easy. "Stan, you don't need to apologize to me!" I exclaimed softly. "She's your girlfriend. You're a couple. You're dating – we're not. You don't have to say sorry when you…" I couldn't even say it. Now I knew how Stan had felt when he'd found out I was gay for him.

Stan sighed on the other line. "But I promised you, dude! I broke a promise to you…" he said in honest pain. I groaned.

"Don't worry about it, Stan. I'm not mad at you. If anything, I'm mad at myself. Love her, I don't mind," I muttered. Stan said nothing for a while.

Finally he said, "I'm sorry, Kyle. I do love her, but you…" he trailed momentarily. My heart was suddenly racing, though I knew he'd never say I was better than her or the like. I doubted he'd ever even say he loved me. But I didn't mind. It's not like I love him. No. Because I certainly don't…

"You're my best friend, man," he finished lamely. "I love you, too. But, you know, just…not like I love her," he finished, absolutely shattering my heart. I said nothing, and hung up. I laid down on my bed and burst into tears.

* * *

I planted my mouth on Stan's, forcing him down against my bed. He quickly allowed my tongue access to his mouth and I grazed every inch of it. Stan moaned into my mouth and I ran my hand down his bare arm. He shivered at my cold touch.

I smirked when Stan forcefully removed my shirt and set to work at my neck with his teeth. I gasped sharply at the feel of his tongue on my skin.

We lay like that for a moment; his mouth devouring my cold skin, until my hand bravely made it's way to the top of Stan's jeans.

He pulled away from me slowly and gave me a look I couldn't comprehend. He sighed. "Kyle, I don't think we should…" he trailed off as my eyes bolted open in surprise. I dashed to my window, and to my horror, watched my mother get out of the car and start towards the house.

"Holy shit, my mom's home early," I announced, disregarding Stan's rejection and throwing him a shirt. I threw on one from the floor and hurriedly made my bed as I heard my mother coming up the stairs. I unlocked the door (she hated it when I locked it, and now wasn't a good time to argue with her over why it was locked) and glanced around, panicking, praying I didn't miss anything suspicious. Stan simply watched me.

My door was thrown open, and my mother gave us a clueless smile. "Hello, Bubbie, Stan," she greeted them. She impulsively opened my backpack that was on my desk and dug through it. "Do you boys have any homework?" she demanded.

I sighed. "Yeah, we were just, uh, studying," I improvised, glancing nervously at Stan for support. He knew how hard lying was for me. Luckily, my mother took no notice and gave us a smile before heading towards the door again.

"Well, make sure you do all your work, Kyle. Let me know if you boys need anything!"

I sighed in relief. Stan smiled weakly. "Man, you're really worried she'll find out, huh?"

I nodded. My mind was racing, heart pounding in panic, even though my mom was gone. Mostly, though, I was pissed. This was supposed to be make-up sex for doing Wendy. He said. He lied. Again. It wouldn't have mattered if my mom hadn't come home early today. Stan wouldn't have gone through with it anyways.

It almost made me wonder what he saw in Wendy over me, before I remembered. _She's a girl._

* * *

"So, uh, Kyle? What do you think?" Butters asked again. I looked at him.

"Uh, well, I guess it doesn't matter. I think it's okay if you ask a guy to the prom," I answered awkwardly. His face lit up slightly and he smiled, thanking me and hurrying off. I chuckled slightly and continued heading outside to the football field.

I almost felt bad for the kid. Because I knew there was no way in hell that Cartman was going to take a guy to the prom.

Stan's practice was running late again. I stood off to the side of the field a bit, smiling when his gorgeous blue eyes caught my green ones.

The last week or so, we'd fallen into a routine. Stan would go to football practice, and I would stay after school and do some lame club project or another. Then, Stan could come home with me, when my mother usually wouldn't get home for an hour or two.

At first, I'd tried autoshop with Kenny, but I realized that I had no mechanical skill whatsoever. Today, I'd stayed in the library, where students could come in and finish overdue projects or homework, and by that time, I had plenty, due to the many hours _not_ studying Stan and I had spent.

The football coach blew the whistle and the team headed for the showers. I waited. Soon, Kenny was standing beside me, smoking something rolled. I hadn't even noticed when he'd arrived, but he was usually like that.

He took a drag of the drug and passed it to me. I sucked some in and passed it back, coughing it out awkwardly.

"Almost got Butters and Cartman," he told me. We smirked together.

"Is that so?"

Kenny nodded. "Heard they're going to the prom together," he said with a laugh. "I'm sure Eric will love that," I nodded and laughed, motioning for him to pass me the smoke again.

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, he said, "So what's up, man? Haven't seen you much lately."

I shrugged. "Been hanging out with Stan a lot I guess," I told him, happy that I wouldn't have to lie. Kenny smirked. I rolled my eyes obviously and ignored him.

"You two would look good together," he said bluntly. I shrugged. "If not for Wendy, I mean," he added. I made a face at the mention of her. Kenny smirked.

"So," he began again, determination in his eyes. "Are you into him?"

I paused, desperately wanting to tell someone my feelings, to not have to make excuses or lies. "I guess you could say that," I told him vaguely. Kenny nodded, blowing smoke heavily. I could see his eyes growing red. I hoped mine weren't.

"And is he into you, too?"

I felt my face grow red and hot. I knew I couldn't tell anyone about Stan and I. Kenny would realize that Stan's cheating on Wendy, and there would be no way he could keep that a secret. And there was no way I could ruin that for Stan.

"I don't think so," I said finally. Kenny gave me a sympathetic look.

"So I'm guessing you don't want to take Rebecca to the prom, then?" he asked. I shrugged. "She was hinting that she was going to ask you, but if you're into guys I could tell her not to," he added. I was saved from having to answer when Stan came out of the school and started towards us.

After one last drag of Kenny's smoke, Stan and I hopped into his truck and started towards my house as usual. When we were in my living room studying, (for real this time, as my mother had said that if I slipped below a B plus she'd have my head,) a thought came to me from earlier.

"Hey, Stan?"

He looked up, grateful for the distraction from studying.

"Do you think a guy could ask another guy to the prom?" I questioned honestly, hoping I hadn't given Butters the wrong answer earlier. Stan raised an eyebrow. "I mean, like, in theory," I added.

Stan didn't say anything for a while. "Prom's not for another month," he stated uselessly. I nodded. "You know I have to go with Wendy,"

I almost scowled. "Firstly, it was just a question. I wasn't asking you to the prom, okay? Secondly, you don't _have_ to go with Wendy. You _want_ to. I know you do. It's fine," I said, my voice cracking slightly. Stan sighed and put his hand in mine.

"I'm sorry, Kyle," he muttered, closing his eyes. I groaned. "I'd rather be with you,"

I knew he was lying again. But I didn't argue with him for fear of bringing out the truth.


	8. Aggrivation

I groaned. Stan gave me a peck on the cheek and ran off down the hallway after Wendy.

"I promise!" he reminded me again. I nodded and rolled my eyes as he turned the corner and disappeared to chase after his bitchy girlfriend. I'd lost track of how many times he'd given me empty promises in the last few months.

I sighed, slouching into homeroom boredly. Wendy had invited Stan over after football practice today. Normally, I wouldn't mind too much, if she hadn't felt the need to seduce Stan in front of me, making rather obvious suggestions as to what she planned for them to do; and if they hadn't done so almost every day for the last two weeks.

If that wasn't bad enough, the prom king and queen nominations are going to be announced tomorrow. And, as the school's typical jock and whore couple, Stan and Wendy were sure to be nominated.

Ten long minutes of homeroom later, I walked to my locker to pack up and leave. I watched in jealousy as Stan flirted with Wendy on their way out to his truck a few feet away.

With an annoyed groan, I glanced around desperately for someone to hang out with. What with the uncharacteristic depression I'd been slowly accumulating lately, I'd been finding excuses not to be alone increasingly more often. I certainly didn't want to turn into some pathetic goth reject just because of some stupid relationship. That was really more Stan's thing…

I jumped in surprise as someone tapped me on the shoulder. I whipped around, surprised not to be faced with anyone. I turned to my other side and was faced with Kenny, who was less than an inch away from my face, smiling playfully.

"Uh, hey, Kenny," I said awkwardly, shutting my locker and stepping away from him. 'What's up?"

Kenny shrugged. "Not much. You?"

I sighed. "Stuff," I replied vaguely. Kenny didn't press me on it, for which I silently thanked him. "You want to hang out? Let's go get drunk, and stoned, and not give a damn about life," I added boredly.

Kenny smiled eagerly, but shook his head. "Can't." I gave him a look. His smile faded, and he looked around awkwardly. "I-I…gotta drive my dad to his AA meeting," he said, blushing slightly. I just nodded, as though I hadn't heard him. "Later, though, Clyde and I are doing major Butters and Cartman sabotage. You want to come with?"

I shook my head. "No thanks," To be honest, I'd completely forgotten about the betting pool about our unsuspecting friends. To be even more honest, I really didn't give a shit today. I knew I'd be too wrongfully pissed at Wendy to focus on anything else.

Kenny waved goodbye and left. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and started towards my house. I groaned when I remembered the Chemistry test I'd recently failed, that my mom would have to sign. I hadn't failed a test since I was ten, and my mother would never let me forget 'how easy it is for everything to change'.

Only, I hadn't realized how damn true that is until recently.

* * *

"Are you sure this isn't about Wendy and I?" Stan asked, almost pleadingly. I sighed.

"It's not," I said again. "My mom gave me shit yesterday about my Chem. test, so I have to study for the make-up,"

Stan didn't say anything for a while. I returned to the science text on the library table in front of me, and Stan put his head in his hands and stared at me. He gave me a fake sad face and I looked up, rolling my eyes.

A few moments of my ignoring him later, Stan said, "C'mon, Kyle, can't you study later?" he prodded. He leaned across the small table and leaned up to my neck.

"S-Stan, we're in a library, not my bedroom," I warily informed him, inching away. I'd thought he was as against public displays of affection as I was. I knew he didn't want anyone finding out about us, so I gave him a puzzled look. Stan laughed softly, pulling away from me finally. "What is so funny?" I demanded.

"There's not even anyone here, we could just –" But the bell rang just in time to cut him off. Stan groaned and we started to pack up and head to the cafeteria.

A thought occurred to me. If Stan was willing to make out in our school's public library, it meant that he was desperate. And that either meant that he had something to apologize to me for, or that he and Wendy had had a fight.

"How's things with Wendy?" I asked casually as we entered the cafeteria a few minutes later. Stan shrugged and didn't meet my eyes. I had a feeling that an apology _and_ a confession were headed my way.

We sat down at our table. Neither Kenny nor Cartman had arrived yet. And Wendy was not in sight. Stan shifted around uncomfortably until he said, "Wendy and I broke up," I gave him my best 'surprised' look, and he went on: "Yesterday, I…told her no," he said almost proudly.

"Well, that's good," I said, trying my best not to sound the relief I felt. (Despite knowing they'll be back together before Butters can say 'hamburgers'.) "But what would one _more_ time matter, right?" I said before I could stop myself. Stan gave me a surprised look.

Kenny and Eric sat down across from us and immediately started arguing, so we ignored them. I noticed their conversation having to do with Kenny spying on Cartman at his house, though…

"That was one time, Kyle," Stan muttered, staring at the brown, wooden table. "I promise, it was only that one time."

I said nothing more. I knew I'd gone too far.

"Whatever, Kenny, what I do in _my_ home is private!" Cartman said loudly. Kenny smirked and just shook his head, making a show of ignoring him. A few people from neighboring tables turned to us and snickered.

Eric turned around in irritation. "Oh, go fuck yourself, Clyde, I know that was you who broke my mom's window, asshole!"

I couldn't quite see, but it seemed that Clyde had thrown a rather disgusting Styrofoam bowl of pudding at Cartman. I laughed at Cartman's huffed response of moving across the room to another table and flipping Kenny and then Clyde off from there.

"Excuse me?" a small, twelfth-grade girl I didn't know said from the front of the room. She was speaking squeakily into a microphone and was surrounded by a large group of girls. The cafeteria went silent quickly. "I am happy to announce that we have our nominees for this year's senior prom king and queen!"

A few tables away, Wendy looked over at Stan longingly. I almost wanted to slap her.

"Our nominees for king are," she said, handing the mic to the girl in red next to her.

"Craig Tucker," the other girl announced shakily. She smiled when the room applauded and Craig waved obnoxiously to the crowd. The girl flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and continued. "Stan Marsh,"

I beamed for my best friend, who blushed uncharacteristically and raised his hand. The students clapped loudly.

"And Kenny McKormick."

The room's female population burst with applause and hurried to crowd around Kenny. Stan and I laughed, watching as our friend slowly made his way towards the door with about twenty girls hanging off his arms.

"The prom queen nominees this year are," said the smaller girl again, getting everyone's attention back.

Stan looked almost nervous. He stared at Wendy and I rolled my eyes.

"Bebe Stevens,"

But Bebe was nowhere to be seen. Stan and I didn't say anything, but we both knew she was probably on the top of Kenny's 'to-do' list after just being nominated for prom king. And he was probably checking her off in the bathroom, along with the other girls who'd followed him outside, right now.

"Nelly Princeton," the announcer said, pausing as we clapped. (Though I'd never heard of her before,) "And, Wendy Testaburger,"

Everyone clapped boredly again, except Wendy's girl friends who crowded her and congratulated her enthusiastically. Stan looked anxiously at her and then at me. I smiled weakly, and Stan left me and headed towards his (ex?) girlfriend.

I watched in numb shock as Stan talked, apologizing and whatnot. Wendy kissed him and smiled, signs that I took to mean they were 'back together'. I rolled my eyes.

I left the cafeteria quickly, just before the bell rang, and went to my locker. As I piled Poly Functions books into my arms, I groaned, realizing I hadn't done last night's homework. I sighed, hurrying through the crowded hallways anyways.

As I slid into my seat and shoved my textbooks into my desk, I groaned, laying my head down on the desk. A few minutes later, the rest of the class and the teacher flooded in. The teacher proceeded to write various polynomial equations on the whiteboard, which most of the students ignored.

Usually I'd be following directly from the textbook, being the good little nerd that I am. But today, I glanced around for Wendy. She usually sat in front of me and she wasn't there yet. It was very odd for someone as 'smart' as her to miss class.

All I could conclude is that something important with Stan must have come up…

* * *

A/N: Ewugh Sorry for a lame chapter...I had a really good idea about the Cartman/Butters thing but I forgot DX so enjoy a short, crappy filler chap 'till I come up with something better!


	9. Competition

"Do you want to go to the prom with me?"

I blinked, staring awkwardly at Rebecca. She smiled sweetly and looked me in the eyes. Damn, this was going to be hard…

"I…I don't think – I mean, I would, but, um…" I swallowed, looking around in panic, hoping an excuse will pop out of the air. Rebecca's smile began to fade. I groaned. The last thing I wanted to do was make someone feel bad because of _me_.

"I don't think I'm going to the prom, actually," I lied. My voice cracked, and I just knew my face was turning red. Rebecca just looked at me. I gave her a look of guilt, which she seemed to ignore, or not believe.

I sighed. "It's not you," I told her. Her face fell, and she nodded, her eyes on the floor. I could tell she was going to cry if I didn't tell her. Shit. My conscience was kicking itself, knowing there was no other way to do it.

"I'm not sure I like girls, Rebecca," I said, almost irritated. She looked up. "I…I'm gay," I muttered.

I couldn't read the look on Rebecca's face. "Oh," she said. She gave me a small smile. " It's okay, Kyle, I'll see you around," she said. As she walked away, she leaned up into my ear.

"I won't tell anyone," she said. I swallowed and nodded gratefully.

For a moment, I just stood there, trying to understand what had happened. For the first time in my life, _I _turned someone _else_ down?

I was still lost in thoughts when the door opened and Stan emerged. He flashed me a smile, shook his perfect ebony hair out of his eyes and adjusted his backpack.

"So what did Rebecca want to talk to you about?" he asked innocently as we started towards his truck. It was the first day in a week that Stan didn't have football practice and he wasn't taking Wendy home. If not for the fact that I had to turn someone down today, today would've been the perfect day for me.

I shrugged. "She asked me some question about our Calculus homework," I informed him casually. Stan nodded, not saying anything until we reached his truck. I started opening the passenger door to get in, before Stan stopped me.

"What – " I began, before I melted into Stan's lips. At first, my mind was controlled with panicked thoughts of being seen, before I forced them away. I was just starting to relax, when…

"Holy _shit_!" I snapped my head back, banging it on the metal of Stan's truck. Stan and I looked around frantically for the person who swore. Suddenly, I noticed Kenny was lying across the hood of the truck. I gave him a look of sheer pissed off-edness and nudged Stan.

Kenny smiled at us. "Why'd you stop?" he asked innocently. Stan scowled at him. Kenny winked at us. "Don'tcha worry, I won't tell," he said with a wave of his hand. Stan's look softened slightly.

"It wasn't…we're not…" Stan rambled. Kenny just nodded.

"It's alright, man, I get it, shit happens, right?"

Stan gave our friend a look I couldn't read. He opened the side door of the truck and got in, followed by me. I gave Stan a comforting smile. He ignored it and put the car in drive.

"Kenny, get off," Stan said boredly. I could tell he was massively pissed, and that I'd be paying for it later. Kenny got off the truck and came around to the window of Stan's side.

"Now," he said. "I wouldn't be ordering someone around who's seen what I have," he said slyly. Stan ignored him and drove away.

We drove the few blocks to his house in silence. It wasn't until we were in Stan's living room, books and papers spread all over our laps in preparation for studying did he say a word.

"That was too close, Kyle," Stan said monotonously. I looked up, glancing into Stan's nervous eyes. "What if it hadn't been Kenny?" he added worriedly. "What if he tells?"

I had no answers for him. "He won't, Stan," I said simply. I knew I was probably wrong, in fact, I was almost sure Kenny would tell _everyone_ by the end of the week. But I didn't mind if people knew. It didn't bother me, and there was no reason to get Stan worked up over it.

"I don't know…" Stan muttered.

I gave him a reassuring peck on the cheek. "It'll be fine," I told him. Stan made a point of ignoring me and continued reading his textbook.

If I took out all the guilt I'd feel, if Kenny did tell people, it would be perfect. Wendy would surely hear about it and dump Stan, and we could be together. But it would be selfish to want that. Stan loves her. I could never _want_ to take that away from him.

But, in the end, it was all up to fate.

* * *

Walking through the hallways the next morning was torture. Everywhere I turned, people looked at me oddly. It was probably just me being my paranoid self, but it seemed as though everyone knew what had happened and like everyone was judging me.

"Hi, Kyle," said a voice from behind me. I turned around slowly, receiving a friendly smile and a wave from Rebecca. I smiled stupidly and watched as she passed me, continuing down the crowded hall.

I sighed as I reached my locker, yanking it open and grabbing my gym clothes and English binder. I'd pathetically grown to love gym, as it was the only class I had with Stan, and Wendy wasn't there to flirt with him.

A half hour later, I grunted shortly as I received a hard pass from Clyde. I shifted the basketball in my hands awkwardly (basketball was certainly not my strong point,) and threw it across the room to Token, who shot and scored.

Stan, a few feet away, gave me a smile and a high-five. I smiled back at him. "Hey," I called to him. "We still hanging out after school? At your place?" Stan bit his lip.

"Uh, actually, change of plans," he said with a shrug. "Wendy's coming over after school, she wants to talk about the prom and shit. It's only like, ten days away, so she's getting really uptight about the whole thing, how it has to be perfect and all that," he informed me. I tightened my lips from saying anything as he continued.

"But we're all going to the bar later, so it's cool, right?"

I just nodded. "Yeah, whatever," I muttered.

Stan sighed, gave me a hand on the shoulder, and ran off to join the play. I watched him stupidly as I reminded myself that Stan and Wendy were in love, and who was I to come between them?

* * *

It was bad enough for me when Stan would hang out with Wendy after school over me. But now, she'd taken everything from me: she sits with us at lunch. She owns Stan on the weekends. And, now, she was at _our_ bar.

She was taking over my fucking life.

"What's up your ass, Jew?" Cartman demanded, finishing off his beer in one swig. I snapped out of my thoughts and rolled my eyes as he frowned at me drunkenly.

I turned to face Stan and Wendy, who were tastelessly making out across the table. They'd been at it all night, and I was really starting to get pissed. Despite the looks of guilt and apology Stan had shot me when they weren't glued at the mouth, I was still not impressed.

Kenny gave me a look of understanding and empathy. I frowned and looked away from him. The last thing I needed was some consolation. I was perfectly happy wallowing in my own jealousy and despair.

A drink or two later, (my heart simply wasn't into getting completely and utterly wasted tonight,) Cartman was sitting outside on the curb puking as Kenny held his hair back, Stan was talking tiredly to Wendy about who should drive home, and I was at the edge of my sanity.

Eventually, Stan gave Wendy his keys and we all stumbled outside miserably. Stan got in the truck, followed shortly by Kenny and a hung-over Cartman. I began to follow, before Wendy stopped me.

"Hey, Kyle, can I talk to you for a sec?" she asked in her 'sweet' voice. I shrugged and nodded.

Wendy sighed, thinking. "How close are you and Stan?" she asked innocently. I gave her a look. She ignored it and looked at me expectantly.

"We're best friends, Wendy," I told her. "What is it you _really_ want to know?"

I jumped as the sound of Stan's horn filled my ears sharply. There was some obnoxious shouting from the car that I couldn't distinguish into words, but Wendy and I ignored it.

"Look, Kyle," Wendy said, bringing my attention back to her. She paused, as though she was looking for the right words. "I've been hearing things I don't like," she said finally. I inwardly cursed and vowed to single-handedly kill Kenny McKormick.

I rolled my eyes. She continued: "And I just don't want anything to go wrong," she said suspiciously.

I scowled. "And what's that supposed to mean?" I said, louder than I'd meant to.

Wendy frowned and raised her voice as she said, "It means you'd better stay the hell away from Stan from now on, or the whole school will hear your pathetic little secret!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs. She stormed away from me and got in Stan's truck.

I watched in seething anger as she drove off sharply, leaving me twelve miles from my house at two a.m. on a Thursday night. I kicked the ground beneath my feet, hard, not caring when my toes stung.

With tears of exasperation streaming down my face, I started the long walk home, reliving every word Wendy had shouted at me, and trying desperately to tell myself that everything would work out.

Even though I knew I was fucked.


	10. Deception

I rubbed my eyes in annoyance, trying to pay attention. What class was I in anyways? I sighed.

It was no use. I could barely keep myself awake let alone focus on school at the moment. Finally, the bell rang for lunch.

Standing up, I swayed woozily and groaned. I was still recovering from the all-night walk I'd pulled on Friday. Yeah, that was fun. What else did I have to do at five a.m. other than walk home, in the cold and the dark, muttering to myself like an idiot?

After depositing my things in my locker, I started towards the cafeteria, hoping to finally get a piece of Kenny. He'd been avoiding me all weekend, and today, all morning. I hoped he at least felt bad for leading Wendy on about Stan and I. Unlikely.

I entered the lunchroom, not liking what I was seeing. There sat Kenny, at our usual table, as well as Wendy. Alone. I glanced around for signs of Cartman or Stan, but none were evident.

As I drew closer to the table, I gazed suspiciously at the two, who were talking in hushed tones. I watched for a few moments more before seeing Kenny shake his head and scowling at Wendy, who proceeded to walk away, throwing Kenny a dirty look angrily.

Finally, I sat down at the table. Kenny said 'hello', and I ignored him pointedly. He sighed.

"What's _your_ problem?" he asked bitchily.

"What do you think, shithead?" I asked monotonously. He gave me a questioning look. I looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Why the hell is Wendy hinting at mine and Stan's relationship?" I asked quietly.

Kenny raised his eyebrows. "I didn't tell her anything," he said, not meeting my eyes. I frowned. He looked at me sheepishly, but said nothing more.

I put my head onto my palm, staring at the boring, white table. "Ken, what the hell did you do?" I demanded quietly.

"N-nothing," he said. "Well, I didn't tell _Wendy_ anything,"

My head snapped up, and I gave Kenny the dirtiest look I could force onto my face. Kenny heaved a sigh.

"I told some of the girls," he said innocently, as though that wasn't a big deal. Maybe it wasn't, and maybe I was making too much of a big deal out of it, but if Wendy found out and left Stan, he'd be fucking miserable.

A thought occurred to me and I groaned inwardly. "Did…did you tell Rebecca?"

Kenny nodded slowly. "And Bebe, and Red, and Heidi, and Tammy – "

"What the _fuck_ were you thinking?" I said loudly. A few people around us glanced at me but I ignored them. "They're all friends with Wendy, dipshit!"

Kenny didn't say anything for a moment. I rested my head in my hands and sighed.

"I think you're making way too big a deal of this, Kyle," Kenny said quietly. I continued to ignore him. "Who cares if I told some girls that you and Stan kissed? It's not like he's cheating on Wendy or anything, it was just a kiss," he continued. I had to fight the urge to slap him. "I'm sure she'd understand,"

I looked up again. "Rebecca knows that I'm gay. And now, she knows that I kissed Stan. If she tells Wendy…" my voice cracked slightly and my eyes stung with tears. "If she tells Wendy, she's going to dump Stan, and it will be all my fault,"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Like I said, you're totally blowing this out of proportion," he said.

I scowled at him. And then, before I knew it, words were coming out of my mouth, before I could even think about saying them. "Stan and I almost fucked."

Kenny's eyes widened, and he stared at me in disbelief. I didn't say anything.

"So, that time in the parking lot _wasn't _just a one-timer?" Kenny eventually said. I shook my head. "Jesus…"

I stayed silent. I knew that telling him that was probably the worst thing I could've done, especially after he just proved he couldn't be trusted.

"Please, Kenny, you can't tell _anyone_, not even Stan," I said pointlessly. Kenny was still lost in thought, a rather disturbed look on his face. He looked at me again and nodded silently.

At that point, I couldn't help but feel like my life was over.

* * *

"You sure?" Stan asked me seriously. I breathed deeply and nodded. Stan nodded once in return and closed the distance between our mouths once more.

I knew this was stupid. This was just going to be another thing Kenny will have against me soon, I was sure of it. But there was no way I was turning down a thing from Stan, which he knew as well as I did.

Stan, who was already without a shirt, began to remove mine. I mindlessly allowed him, still lost in thoughts of guilt, worry and exasperation.

A loud ring disrupted the moment. I jumped in surprise, and Stan groaned, reaching over me to his bedside table, where his cell phone rang loudly.

"Hello?" said Stan in a rather irritated tone. He raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Christ, Kenny, this better be fucking important!" he said in annoyance. Suddenly, he scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I went pale in the face, hoping Kenny at least had the sense to not lead Stan to the fact that he knows anything about our relationship. Then, I realized that Kenny was a fucking moron when it came to knowing when to shut the hell up, and I groaned.

Stan muttered something and hung up his phone. He climbed off of his bed and started putting on his shirt. "Ken's at the bar. Says there's something we 'have to see'," he informed me. I made a face of displeasure that our…'activities' would have to be postponed once again.

The ride through the growing darkness to the bar was more than awkward. It was the second time in a month we'd _almost_ gone all the way, and I was beginning to think fate had something against us.

We got out of the truck boredly, starting towards the building in uncomfortable silence. It wasn't until we were inside, moving towards our usual booth in the back did I notice that a large amount of the people there were kids from our school. We located Kenny quickly, who was talking to Craig.

"Hey," Stan said when we reached them. We all quickly exchanged hellos, and Kenny turned and quickly muttered something to Craig that I couldn't quite hear.

Stan looked around the room. "So, Ken," he said. "What's this 'thing' that we're supposed to be seeing?"

Kenny smirked and turned to Craig.

"Yeah, Craig, tell them what it is we're supposed to be seeing," he said with obvious sarcasm. Craig rolled his eyes.

"Be patient, you'll see," he said, ignoring Kenny's tone of voice. I gave Stan a look of confusion, and he simply shrugged.

Craig turned away to talk to someone, and left Kenny, Stan and I alone. Kenny looked from Stan to me and back to him again, wearing a look I couldn't decipher. It was a mix between disgust and the look someone gives you when they know something you don't. I wanted to slap him.

"They're coming! Everyone shut up!" Craig whispered to a group of people behind us. Their conversations stopped and Kenny, Stan and I walked over to where they were standing in a small crowd.

I had to stop myself from laughing out loud when Cartman and Butters walked into the bar, holding hands. Clyde snickered quietly, and Craig stepped on his foot.

Eric, in annoyance, and Butters, in flamboyancy, started over to our group. Cartman glared at Craig. Craig characteristically flipped him off.

"To anyone who cares," he began as though it had been rehearsed. "Butters and I…" he paused slightly, before shooting another dirty look at Craig. "Are going out."

There was a slight pause before about a third of the small group laughed obnoxiously, another third cheered and congratulated them, and the last third rushed over to Craig to ask him how he got them to admit it in front of us. I glanced at Stan and Kenny, who were tearing up from intense laughter.

The crowd disassembled itself and I groaned, noticing Wendy, drastically hurrying over to where Stan stood next to me. Not wanting to hear any of her bullshit, I made my way over to Craig.

"So, how'd you do it?" I asked him simply. He smirked and shrugged.

"Reason," he said. I gave him a look of disbelief. He leaned down to me. "I did what I had to do," he whispered.

I gave him a look of slight disgust. I didn't even want to know which of the very disturbing things I was thinking of he'd 'had to do' for the grand total of four-hundred and fifty bucks. All I said was, "You better get the money soon, before Kenny spends it himself."

Craig nodded and he went off to talk to Kenny. I wandered back to where Stan stood, talking to Bebe and Wendy. I waited a few feet away as he said goodbye, and they flooded out of the bar with most of the crowd that had gathered earlier.

Stan and I joked and laughed for a few more minutes before going to find Cartman and his new bitch, ahem, boyfriend, Butters.

"Hey, Fatass," Stan greeted him. Cartman rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. "Where's Butters?" Stan added tauntingly.

Eric made a point of ignoring him.

"So," I began, smirking obviously. "Are you going to pick out matching dresses for the prom? Or would that be too tacky?" Stan laughed, and I just looked at Cartman with satisfaction.

He groaned, rolling his eyes once more. "Go jump off a temple, you Jew bitch," he muttered.

Stan slowly finished laughing and put a hand on Cartman's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Cartman," he said jokingly. "I'm happy for you!"

Eric smirked in fake sincerity. "Why _thank_ you Stan, because I care _so_ deeply what some asshole fag thinks of me."

Stan chuckled. "_I'm_ the fag?"

We laughed again and started towards the parking lot of the bar. Stan asked Cartman if he wanted a ride home, but he mumbled something about getting a ride from Butters, which started us on another laugh attack.

But as I slid into the passenger side of Stan's truck, I realized something.

_Cartman's_ boyfriend wasn't ashamed of him. And that sure as hell beat mine.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for slow update, I had a million different ways to write this chapter and I just couldn't make it work... anyways, R&RPlz

P.S Sorry for slow update for Innudeno as well DX I'm lazy this week...


	11. Affliction

"You know what you should do?" Kenny asked me.

I rolled my eyes, which he ignored.

"You should make Stan jealous," he announced, throwing his books off of his lap and pushing them carelessly to the floor. I made a point of ignoring him and continued trying to read about functions from my textbook.

Kenny sighed. "What's wrong with you, Kyle?" he asked rhetorically. Of course, he already knew everything that was wrong. Stan had gone over to Wendy's today, and I had invited Kenny over, and ended up spilling my whole story to him. Yeah, that was smart.

"You know what's wrong with me, Kenny. My best friend is cheating on his girlfriend with me, he's too ashamed to tell anyone, and he's too much of a dick to just pick one of us." I told him again.

Kenny shook his head. "That's not it," he said. "There's something else…"

I groaned. "Would you fucking mind your own damn business?" I muttered. Kenny shook his head 'no' again.

"You don't want him to have to pick between you two, do you?" Kenny asked. I gave him a look. Since when was he my psychologist?

I sighed, trying to avoid where this conversation was headed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hear me out," Kenny said. "You don't want Stan to chose her, right?" he asked. I started to nod slowly, but he interrupted me. "Of course I'm right. Now, you don't want him to chose Wendy, because you'll feel like shit, probably go goth and try to kill yourself."

I rolled my eyes. Kenny continued:

"But you also don't want him to pick you over her, because that will make you feel guilty," he said. I tried to hide my annoyance that he brought up the guilt factor. "Yeah, you know she was with him first, and that _you're_ the complication, not her."

I fucking wanted to slap him.

"While that was all very interesting," I said monotonously. "Can we just get back to studying?"

Kenny looked at me oddly. "Dude, your social future hangs in the balance, and you want to _study_?" I shrugged. "No. We're going to make Stan jealous."

I sighed. This was the problem with Kenny: he was too caring for his own good. He would come off as nosy, but in truth, he was just doing whatever he knew best to help. Unfortunately, most of the student body couldn't get past his slutiness to see the real him.

"Alright, Kenny, what does getting Stan jealous entail?" I asked boredly.

He smirked. "Sleep with me."

I paused, not because I was considering the possibility of sleeping with Kenny, but because I was considering the best way to say no. He stared at me suggestively, and I snapped out of thoughts of trying to be nice and…

"Jesus, Kenny, you're such a whore!" I said loudly. My little brother, Ike, emerged from the kitchen with a look of disgust and confusion, and slowly walked away up the stairs.

Kenny laughed. "Alright, maybe I am, but hey, it would probably work…"

I scoffed. "The prom is two days away. It's too late to do anything. He's going to spend the rest of his life with her," I said sadly. "And there's nothing I can do."

Kenny gave me a consoling look. "Then don't sit here feeling sorry for yourself," he said. "Do something about it – _make_ things change."

* * *

"God – _Stan!_"

"Ngn…_Wendy_!"

Stan collapsed on top of me, and quickly lifted himself off and onto the bed beneath us. We breathed deeply for a moment. I stared at him.

"W-Wendy?" I asked, hurt.

Stan turned over to face me, breathing heavily. I stared into his dark blue eyes in disbelief.

It had finally happened. After weeks of distractions and chaos, it had finally happened. Stan and I had sex. And it wasn't even _okay _– it was fucking incredible. But it sure hurt like hell to know that it was incredible because he was thinking of _her_.

"I…I didn't mean to…" Stan stuttered worriedly. "I'm so sorry, Kyle."

I looked at him sullenly. My throat stung and my eyes burned with tears. "Yeah, okay. Whatever," I forced myself to say. Stan gave me a worried look.

I sighed. "I should get going," I muttered. Stan said nothing as I stood up and got dressed quickly. I looked back to Stan as I headed for his bedroom door. He was staring at me oddly.

"Stan," I said. "You're going to have to choose between us eventually."

Stan looked away and nodded. I waited, but he said nothing more. As hurt as I felt, I knew it was probably eating away at him even more. At least, it should be, if he has any soul at all.

I left quickly, hurrying outside. "_I've got to get away from this_," I thought. I suddenly had an overpowering urge to forget all this, to leave this mess behind – to make things change, like Kenny had said. But I knew I couldn't do any of those things, at least, not sober. And sure as hell not alone.

As I trudged towards my house, I pulled out my cell phone. I dialed Kenny's cell and got no answer. I called Clyde then. No answer. Then Craig. No answer. I wondered if they were having some sort of orgy involving dead cell phone batteries, but I pushed that from my mind. I threw my pride out the window, and called Cartman.

"Hello?"

"Cartman?" I said stupidly. "You want to get stoned tonight?" I asked. I knew that would draw him in.

There was a pause. "I can't – not that I'd want to hang out with a lame Jew," he said, ending weakly. I knew he would've come, though. Drugs were his weak point.

"So what are you doing, then?" I asked out of sheer curiosity. I almost didn't want to know by his conscious tone.

"I'm…meeting Butters," he said quietly. I somehow had no desire to laugh at him or Butters – at least _they _were happy together.

"Oh. Okay, whatever," I said. I hung up boredly without waiting for a reply.

When I reached my house, I hurried upstairs to take a quick shower, ignoring my mother's 'where were you's and 'your father and I were so worried's. After, I realized how tired I was. I wanted to sleep, but at the same time, wanted to have human company more than anything.

I glanced at the clock on my bedroom wall. Ten. I yawned, laying down on my bed. As I drifted off to sleep, I groaned, realizing that tomorrow was the day of the senior prom – not that I really gave a shit. I just didn't realize that the time Stan would have to choose between Wendy and I was so soon.

And something just told me that tomorrow was the day.

* * *

"You wanna cut class, too, Kyle?" Kenny asked me. My eyes widened at him.

"Do you know how much shit I'd be in – "

Cartman cut me off. "No one gives a crap, bitch, c'mon."

I rolled my eyes. I thought for a moment, considering it. It was near the end of the day, and we'd be cutting last period, which for me, was Art. I had a ninety-three in that class, and still had at least six hours I could miss before the end of the year. Maybe one period wouldn't make a difference… I looked back at Kenny and Cartman.

"Stan's not cutting, is he?" I asked hopefully. Kenny shook his head, and I sighed in relief. Facing him after last night was the last thing I needed right now.

I groaned. "Alright, alright, let's go."

Kenny smirked and led the way outside to the large field surrounding the school. We said nothing as we made our way to the back of the property, where there were a few large oak trees clustered together. We sat a few feet apart from one another, simply absorbing the outdoors.

I laid down, staring at the pale blue sky through the mask of leaves overshadowing us. I jumped in surprise and sat up when I heard the spark of a lighter.

There sat Kenny, inhaling deeply from a joint. He tossed Cartman the lighter, who lit up a cigarette.

"Jesus Christ, guys, you guys could get in a lot of shit if someone sees you," I informed them. Cartman ignored me, and Kenny chuckled.

"You worry too much, man," he said, handing me the joint. I shrugged, truly not giving a shit anymore. I sucked on it and blew out the smoke. What did it matter if I got in trouble? Or even if I got lung cancer? I had no future anyways – at least, not with Stan, where it matters most to me.

But after an hour of passing the J and the cigarettes around, I didn't even know who I was, let alone that Stan was going to dump my ass tonight at the prom, for Wendy, no less.

The bell rang, and kids immediately started to flood out of the school. I glanced around for Stan, though I barely knew why. I did know, however, that he'd been avoiding me all day.

Kenny, Cartman and I stood up and headed back up to the school to get our stuff.

When I finally slammed my locker shut gracelessly and started home, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and flipped it open. It was a text from Stan.

_I have to tell you something…_

_- S_

My heart raced. Somehow, my mind seemed to be working better, as I found myself typing a reply.

_Okay, what is it?_

_- Ky_

Stan responded almost immediately. As I read his message, my heart sank immensely. I struggled to breathe normally and could hardly focus. It couldn't be true…

_Kyle, I regret it. I wish I'd never had sex with you. Tonight, I'm going to the prom with Wendy. I love _her_ – not you. What we did wasn't normal, it wasn't right. You said I'd eventually have to choose, and now I have. I'm sorry._

_- S_

I flipped my phone shut and hurried out of the school, tears pouring from my eyes. I could feel the eyes of other kids on me, but I ignored them.

Why was I so surprised? Why was I so sad? I didn't really expect him to choose me over her, did I?

Actually, I did.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to the flammer, I needed a good laugh! (Real props to all those who review too!)


	12. Revelation

"Thanks for coming with me, Ken," I said, still slightly nervous.

"No problem, dude," he said. Kenny gave me a comforting look and led the way into the school gymnasium. I brushed lint off of my tux and followed him inside.

It was somewhat relieving not having to keep everything bottled up as usual. Kenny was a very good listener, if you could ignore his incriminating, rather disturbing comments.

I glanced around the gym, unimpressed. It looked no different from our junior prom, lame lights, lame decorations, lame music, the whole works. The only thing that immediately caught both of our attention was the food table.

Kenny proceeded to stuff his face with triangular-shaped sandwiches, while I looked around. When my eyes set on Stan and Wendy, dancing and laughing happily, I had to resist the urge to throw the various finger foods at them.

I said 'see you later' to Ken and started towards Stan.

"Hey," I said wearily. Stan turned around and gave me a look. It was a cross between confusion and annoyance. I looked at Wendy, in her slutty, low-cut, frilly pink dress, who frowned at me. I made a point of ignoring her.

Stan leaned closer to me. "What are you doing?" he asked.

I looked into his deep blue eyes. They looked worried and stressed. "What do you mean? We can't be friends, at least?" I demanded firmly. I lowered my voice and added, "You owe me that much."

Stan drew back, guilt obvious on his tanned features. "I…I don't know what you're talking about."

I held back from throttling him right then and there. Wendy looked at me with fire in her eyes, and I just shook my head. I grabbed Stan by the arm and pulled him aside, out of Wendy's earshot.

He looked at me blankly, numbly, almost with sadness. "Stan," I began.

But before I could say another word, a cheerful voice came over the speakers.

"Hellooo, seniors!" a girl's voice said. Everyone in the gymnasium turned towards the stage at the front of the room. "It's time to announce the winners of this year's prom king and queen!"

I rolled my eyes, but Wendy squealed excitedly and lunged over to us, putting her arm around Stan's waist. I sighed.

With an obnoxious flip of her long, blonde hair, the spunky girl at the head of the gymnasium continued: "This year's prom king and queen are…" she took her grand old time flipping through a stack of cue cards, and finally smiled flakily again.

She looked surprised, almost appalled. She said, "Kenny, and uh, Wendy."

The crowd clapped, and Wendy blushed. Stan seemed to disappear as she pushed past him and onto the stage. A few moments later, someone dragged Kenny onto the stage. He looked at Wendy, and then at the crowd.

"WOO HOO!"

Stan scowled as Kenny kissed his girlfriend deeply. The girl from the stage left and everyone resumed dancing and talking with their friends as Kenny and Wendy pulled away, smiling.

A few moments later, Wendy reappeared next to us, her hand in Kenny's. A few friends stood around her, laughing and talking excitedly. She beamed at her boyfriend.

"I won, Stan! Kenny and I won!" she exclaimed, turning and pecking Kenny on the cheek. He blushed deeply. Stan, I could tell, held back from saying something and simply looked from her to Kenny, and eventually faked a smile.

"Er…congrats, Wendy," he muttered. I frowned.

Suddenly, words emerged from my mouth before I could stop them. "Stan, how the hell could you let her walk over you like that?"

A few kids looked over at us, but I ignored them. Stan glared at me half-heartedly.

"Kyle," Wendy said harshly. "You better watch what you say," she warned. "Or things could get ugly." I laughed.

"What are you going to do, Wendy? Turn all your stupid little girlfriends against me? I don't care," I said bravely. I had no idea how I suddenly had this much rage and confidence. "I'm sick of you treating Stan like shit!"

Wendy rolled her eyes. Now, probably about fifty kids were watching us.

She looked around at everyone, and gave me a nasty look. "You don't know what you're talking about. Maybe I should tell everyone something they might not know about you, Kyle," she said threateningly. I heard what she said, but somehow, didn't really give a shit if everyone knew my secret. I wasn't embarrassed about it anymore.

"Kyle is in love with Stan!" she announced. "He even told me. Isn't that just _wrong_?" All the kids who were now listening intently raised their eyebrows in disgust and whispered.

Stan turned to look at me, surprised. I felt my face get hot and fought it off. It wasn't over yet.

"Maybe I am," I said carefully. Suddenly, Stan seemed to realize where this was going.

He said, "Don't." I gave him a look of apology and continued.

"But I think it's only fair for you to know, Wendy," I paused and looked around. The whole room seemed to be hanging on my every word. Stan buried his face in his hands and Kenny looked at me with wide eyes, shaking his head frantically. Cartman and Butters looked at me in disbelief.

"That Stan and I made out," I said loudly. Wendy scowled at me, but for some reason, I couldn't stop: "And then we screwed. _While_ you two were going out!" I added unnecessarily. I didn't dare look at Stan.

After a short round of 'Ew!'s and 'Those two? For real?'s, Wendy came closer to me. She dropped her angry look, and instead looked simply disappointed. Somehow, guilt still managed to tear at my sides, despite everything that'd happened over the last two months. I hated her, but I still hated doing this to her, and eventually, to Stan.

She slapped me.

I put my hand to my face and glanced at Stan, who looked bewildered. Wendy turned to Stan also, stomped on his foot, _hard_, in her six-inch stiletto heels, and hurried out of the gym without another word.

The crowd surrounding us was quiet, save for the few whispers and snide comments being passed around. Stan stared at me sadly, shook his head and sighed. He hurried out of the gymnasium after his girlfriend. I ran after him.

Stan burst into the hallway and looked around for Wendy. She was nowhere in sight.

"S-Stan, I…" I muttered, unable to say what I was feeling. "I'm so sorry. I just got so pissed, and she just kept pushing me…"

Stan shook his head. "Kyle, you ruined it!" he said suddenly. "You ruined everything! Why can't you just…go away?" he asked. My heart pounded painfully in my chest.

I held back tears and said, "I'm sure that if you just explain to her – "

Stan stopped me, and said, "Kyle, I don't want you in my life. You've already done enough." I nodded and looked away from him. "I have to go find Wendy. I love her, and if she leaves me because of you…" he muttered. "I'll never forgive you."

And he hurried away down the hallway, leaving me to my tears.

* * *

The cold, harsh wind ripped at my skin, and pulled at my shoulder-length orange curls. I shivered, being without a coat in South Park, and sighed. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and flipped it open.

_1:24 am_. I shook my head. It had been over a half hour since I'd texted Stan, now. I pointlessly glanced around the cold area, stupidly surveying it for any form of life.

Something creaked behind me and I jumped, turning around quickly. A crow had landed on the parapet behind me. The iced concrete beneath my bare feet burned at my skin, but I paid no attention.

The high school's roof was completely barren of life. (Except for the crow and I.) I glanced back down to the phone in my pale fingers, and sighed again, flipping it shut.

I started towards the edge of the roof. I looked over the ledge at the ground. It was so far away…

With a deep breath and one last glance around the area surrounding the school. The stupid building I hated so much. It seemed only fitting that I would die from its height.

"_Stan's not coming,"_ I painfully thought to myself. _"He only cares about her. He doesn't care if you live or die."_ Tears rolled down my face as I heaved myself onto the brick ledge. My mind swayed, and I was suddenly overcome with a terrible dizziness. I crouched on the ledge and stabled myself.

His last words to me rang throughout my head. _"Kyle, I don't want you in my life."_ I cringed.

I reflected on everything suddenly, like my life was flashing before my eyes. Our pleasant, happy childhood with Kenny and Cartman, our equally as adventurous quest through school, and then, most recently, the sadness that accompanied our hidden relationship.

I couldn't bear to think about it anymore, so I distracted myself with gazing down upon the barren, depressing South Park night.

I looked around the street again intently, hoping to catch sight of someone, anyone, But everyone had left an hour ago, probably including Stan and Wendy. _"He's not here. He never was."_

Silently, I agreed with myself, and stood up, getting ready to breathe for the last time.

* * *

A/N: One more regular chapter, then an epilogue. Thanks to all my loyal readers. :D


	13. Execution

"Kyle! No!"

I twitched at the sound of my name. My heart began to race with panic, and I slowly turned around on the brick ledge, and lowered myself down from it, onto the roof.

Kenny launched himself at me, hooking his arms around my waist. He was crying, sobbing heavily. I couldn't recall ever seeing him this emotional, even when his own life was hanging in the balance. I embraced him back, tears pouring out of my own eyes. We stayed like that for what had to have been forever.

He muttered into my ear softly. The only words I could make out were, 'Kyle', 'Please', and 'Don't'. Hearing his worried tone only made me cry even harder.

He pulled away from me, staring me in the eyes. I looked away guiltily.

"Kyle…" he muttered. He laid his hands on my shoulders and shook his head. I could only figure he was searching for the right words. I couldn't even imagine being in his position. He looked back up to me.

"Someone who makes you feel like this," Kenny said, looking away from me. "I would say doesn't deserve you, Kyle."

I thought this over. "What…what happened to him?" I asked cautiously.

Kenny paused. "I don't know, Kyle. Does it really matter after all this?" he asked apathetically.

I shrugged. "I just wonder if he knows…if he cares about what he did to me."

"I don't know." Kenny repeated. "He should – but I think you already know he doesn't." Ouch.

When I said nothing, Kenny said:

"C'mon. Eric's in the car waiting, but for how long, I don't know." I nodded and slowly followed Kenny back down the ladder to the top floor of the school. We walked soundlessly outside to Cartman's car and got in.

He turned around from the front and looked at Kenny and then me. I could tell his eyes were slightly red, even through the dark of the night. I gave him a look of understanding, and neither of us said a word.

Cartman, Kenny and I were still wearing our clothes from the prom. It seemed so surreal – the prom seemed like a lifetime ago, while it was really only about two hours ago. It seemed so stupid. Everything since that day so long ago when I kissed Stan seemed so beautifully useless now.

When we reached my house about ten minutes later, I got out of the car. Kenny gave me a worried look, and I said nothing, waving goodbye as Cartman drove off. When I turned around and looked up, I almost had myself a heart attack.

Stan's ugly, old, paint-chipped truck sat in my driveway. I walked over to it, feeling as though it was all a dream and I was just imagining it. I peered in the driver's side window, and simply stared at him. He was asleep across the seat, still wearing a tux, looking absolutely exhausted.

I almost opened the door to wake him up, until I saw a piece of paper taped to the windshield from the inside. I walked around to the front of the vehicle to read it.

'_I'm sorry.'_

It took a lot of my willpower to roll my eyes and look away from it. I walked back over to the driver's side door and pounded on it in annoyance. Stan jerked awake and sat up hastily. When his eyes met mine, he flung open the door and got out.

"Stan," I stated, unable to think of much else to say. I honestly had nothing else to say to him. Maybe Kenny was right – maybe he doesn't deserve me, maybe he doesn't care. Either way, I let Stan hug me softly.

He pulled away quickly and stared at me in silence. Finally, he said, "What…what happened to you? Where were you?"

I shrugged. "Nothing. Nowhere. What do you care? I thought you didn't want me in your life," I said emotionlessly. Stan bit his lip and gave me a sad look.

"How can you possibly believe that I don't care?" he asked slowly. "I overreacted. I panicked. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he added desperately. His eyes leaked tears.

I frowned and thought for a moment. "Where's Wendy?" I asked finally, with more than a hint of annoyance in my tone.

Stan shrugged carelessly. "I don't give a flying fuck about Wendy," he announced. "She left me, obviously. But…what she said at the prom, about you…and me…" he mumbled. I cut him off.

"It was true, Stan," I said. "I did love you. _Did_." And then, Stan looked at me so sadly that I couldn't bear to keep looking. I turned away and sighed. I almost apologized, but kept Kenny's words in my head to force the urge away.

Stan nodded. "I deserve that. I was terrible to you, Kyle. I'm so sorry, but I've realized it's not Wendy who I want to be with."

My heart panged with guilt, and I groaned. "Stan…" I began, not knowing what to say. My mind raced; unable to process feelings fast enough to put them into words. I shook my head in confusion and exhaustion. I put a palm to my forehead as my vision became spotty. "I…I can't – " And with that, I collapsed.

* * *

I woke up to the sound of my parents arguing. My mother was whining to my dad about letting me out so late, and my dad was rebutting that I was old enough to look after myself.

When my eyes fluttered open, I looked around – I was in my bedroom, and I could hear my parents downstairs. The clock on the desk beside me told me it was seven a.m. I sat up and got out of my bed. I realized I was still wearing my tuxedo from the night before.

After changing hurriedly, I started down the stairs where my parents were still going at it. When they saw me, they shut up.

"Oh, Bubbie," my mother said annoyingly. She hurried over to me and kissed me on the forehead. "Oh, you must be so tired! Stan brought you over here at – what was it, Gerald? Oh, it must have been two o' clock!" She looked in both of my eyes separately. "Are you alright? What happened to you?"

I sighed. "I'm fine mom, really, just had a long night is all." I rubbed my eyes clear of sleep and groaned. If it weren't for my parents arguing, I probably could've slept for another day or two.

My mother seemed to accept this excuse, and laid off a bit. "Do you need anything, honey?" She asked. (About forty times.) I told her I was fine and turned on the TV. She retreated to the kitchen and left me alone. I knew she meant well, but right now, all I wanted was to be alone.

Unfortunately, Ike didn't get the memo, and flung himself into the room and onto the couch. "Hiya, Kyle," he said annoyingly. I sighed.

"Hey, Ike."

"How was the prom?" he prodded. I shrugged, mumbling some useless, crap answer. "Did you kiss your _boyfriend_, Stan?" he asked loudly.

I scowled at him. "Stan is _not_ my boyfriend, Ike," I said. I knew this was his exact plan, to get me fired up, but I figured that I pretty much had to deny it or else face my brother's wrath.

Ike giggled boyishly and said nothing more. I rolled my eyes and continued mindlessly staring at the TV.

When Ike and I held an epic battle for the remote and my mother got pissed and told us off, I went up to my room. I couldn't put this off any longer. I had to talk to Stan. Or, because talking is too humiliating, text him.

_We need to talk, don't we?_

_-Ky_

As I waited for Stan's reply, I paced my room anxiously. When my phone vibrated, I flipped it open frantically. _Pathetic_, I told myself.

I groaned, as Stan had called me as apposed to texting me. "Hello?" I said in slight irritation.

"Kyle?" Stan said. "I've got to see you. I've got to talk to you," he said desperately. I raised my eyebrows though he obviously couldn't see. "I…I need you."

I paused. "Oh-kay," I said quietly. Stan hung up and I looked at my cell phone in confusion. I went back downstairs and headed for the kitchen.

Ignoring my mother's concerned questions of my comfort, I glanced out the window. I sighed, watching Stan hurry down the sidewalk towards my house. Not wanting my mom to see him and flood him with annoying questions about last night, I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

"H-hey," Stan said tiredly. I nodded wordlessly.

He stared at me. "Kyle," he said. "I love you."

I stared back at Stan. His deep, blue eyes looked anxious and worried. I mulled over my thoughts, still not sure how to respond.

"Stan, I…" he cut me off, gently placing his hands on my shoulder, and his lips on mine. Unlike the many times we'd kissed dishonestly before, behind everyone's back, while he thought of her, this felt almost…right. Normal. Beautiful.

We pulled away. "I love you, too," was all I said. Stan hugged me with a broad grin.

"Be my boyfriend."

"'Kay."

It was over. The lies, the deception, the cheating: It was over, and I didn't have to end it with my life.

Finally, I could be happy without having to share the one I love.


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"We're going to be late, Kyle!"

I groaned and continued to desperately search my room for my jacket. I glanced under my bed and sighed in relief. I reached under the cool metal and weaved through textbooks and papers, and pulled my orange-and-green jacket from under it. Part of me wondered how the hell it got there, and the rest of me didn't have the time to care.

I hurried downstairs to where Stan stood impatiently, tapping his foot.

"C'mon, dude," he said, taking my hand and dragging me out the door to his truck. "Let's go."

I sighed. "Where are we going, anyways?" I asked for what had to have been the hundredth time that week. Stan had been hiding this from me all month, and despite wanting to know what he had planned, I also was eager for the surprise.

As I figured, Stan didn't reply and just got in the truck and started it up. I gave him a forced look of irritation and got in beside him.

"Close your eyes, Ky," he requested.

"Why?"

"It builds tension," he said. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Just do it."

I did. Stan started down the street, and turned right. I jumped when I felt a hand on my thigh, but didn't open my eyes. I smiled peacefully as Stan continued to drive to God knows where.

Ten minutes later, the truck stopped abruptly. I started to open my eyes, but Stan put a hand over them and leaned up to my ear.

"Not yet," he whispered. I nodded. Stan removed his hand and got out of the truck, me right behind him. He took my hand again and we began walking on concrete.

Suddenly, Stan stopped. There was a sound I figured was knocking on a door, and the door opening. We went inside, and were suddenly hit with the sound of roaring loud music and hundreds of people talking excitedly.

"Open your eyes, Kyle," Stan said. I slowly opened them, and glanced around the room. I jumped. We were in Cartman's living room, which was currently packed with kids I recognized from their former grade. Most of them simply stood around with friends, talking and laughing, but a few were dancing like they belonged in an institute, Kenny included.

I turned to Stan with a questioning look. "Have fun, Kyle," he told me. "Since school got out, all you've done is study for college, and I think you need a break. I'll catch you in a bit?"

I smiled and nodded. Stan went off to talk to Clyde, and I went over to Kenny, narrowly avoiding being hit by his obnoxiously swinging arms. When he saw me, he smiled and stopped, breathing heavily.

"Dude, take it down a notch," I remarked. Kenny chuckled.

"What's up, Kyle?" he asked, slightly hazily. "What's goin' on?"

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you were going to stop drinking, you know, for Bebe?" I said. Ever since things went terribly between Kenny and Wendy at the prom, (which I tried to avoid thinking about at all costs) he'd gone back to wooing Bebe instead.

And, when Bebe announced at our graduation party that she was pregnant, Kenny hadn't slept for a month.

Kenny shrugged. "I know, I know. But tonight's all about having fun, right? Before I have to turn off the whore and turn on the 'responsible father'. I sniggered. "Take my advice, Kyle," he said, leaning one elbow on my shoulder. "Stick with Stan. A' least you can't get him pregnant…"

I laughed and nodded. Kenny wandered off absently, and I walked through the crowd. I gave Butters a friendly smile, which he returned awkwardly. He was doing that hand-wringing thing again, and looked kind of distracted.

"Hey, Butters," I said cautiously. "What's up?"

Butters looked at me for a moment. "Oh, not much, Kyle," he said, obviously untruthfully. I gave him a questioning look, and he sighed. "It's nothing, it's just that my parents are going to ground me if they find out I was at a party instead of studying for my entrance exams,"

I almost laughed, but held back and tried to look comforting as I said goodbye and continued sifting through the rowdy group of former students.

"Hello, Kyle," a familiar voice said from behind me. I groaned, turning around to face Cartman. He gave me one of his 'innocent' smiles.

"What do you want, fatass?" I said monotonously.

He snickered. "Nothing, Kyle. Say, I was just wondering – what score did you get on your Denver entrance exam?"

I scowled. He would never let this go, I could tell. I looked away from him and muttered, "Ninety-six."

Eric beamed. "That's very cool, Kyle. I could never match you with my humble _ninety-seven_," he said in his asshole way. I rolled my eyes, trying not to let it bother me. The only thing I could figure was that he must've cheated.

"Whatever," I said lamely. "Go fuck yourself." Cartman laughed again.

"Go fuck – or, I suppose I should say, _get fucked by_ – Stan," he retorted calmly. I snorted.

"Go fuck Butters," I said. I watched in satisfaction as Cartman's face went red, and he simply turned on his heel and walked away. I smirked.

I walked on through the overwhelming crowd. When I suddenly became face-to-face with the all-familiar Queen of the Bitches, I frowned.

"Hi, Kyle," Wendy said firmly.

"Wendy."

She looked at me oddly for a moment. "Well, maybe I'll see you around," she said. I don't think it was intended to sound threatening, but to me, it did. I nodded awkwardly. Wendy stepped to the left to walk away. She stopped suddenly and turned to me. She looked like she wanted to say something. Her eyes were defenseless and her face looked grave – but she said nothing, and walked away.

I ignored the guilt sinking into my heart, and continued to weed through the masses of teens. Bebe smiled at me from a few yards away, and I returned it. She supported her growing stomach with her hand and waved with the other.

After a few more casual hellos between the people I'd know since kindergarten, I met up with Stan, who was slightly intoxicated. He smiled at me.

He took my hand and said, "Close your eyes again, Kyle," as clearly as he could manage. Without another word, I closed my eyes and allowed Stan to lead me away from the loud music and the loud people and the loud party.

When I heard Stan close a door behind us, I was leaned against a wall, and felt lips on my own. I kissed Stan back, until he suddenly pulled away. I finally opened my eyes, and gazed into his deep, capturing blue ones.

He smiled. "Here's to a long, happy life together in college," he said softly. "Forever." I nodded, grinning at my best-friend-slash-boyfriend.

Stan kissed me again, and I could tell that he really meant it.

* * *

A/N: I know, I know, Stan doesn't deserve Kyle. But in the real world, this is how it probably would've turned out. Anyways, R&RPLZ 3


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